#Inheritance Games fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

m0nnypie · 15 days ago

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I'VE GOT MY EYES ON YOU

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Summary: Just the pov of Finnick loving you over the years, and remembering everything about you

Warnings: cute but with a bit of angst on Finn's part. Other than that, all happiness and love.

a/n: Well, excuse any spelling mistakes, English isn't my first language. And I tried my best to make it as much like Finnick as I could, but this is my first fic of his lol. Anyway, I hope you like it and enjoy <3

Words: 1.8k

Finnick remembers the first time he saw you. He was eight and you were only six. Your father had gone to see his for some reason Finnick can't remember — not least because he hadn't been paying attention to them. What he does remember is you glaring at him. It made him laugh, which only deepened your frown.

He imagines it was because you didn't like him very much at the time. He didn’t blame you. With your older brother constantly saying that no boy was any good, it was hard to be friends with anyone he was always badmouthing. Finnick didn’t blame your brother either — in a world like theirs, any protection, even unnecessary, was better than none. Still, nothing changed how cute and funny he had found you at the time. After that day, you never met in person again.

The time he considers the second was when his name was called at the reaping. He remembers your eyes glued to him; you were twelve, and he was fourteen. He could feel your pity seeping through his skin. He didn’t blame you — after all, like it or not, it was still the Hunger Games. But knowing that you were looking at him made it almost funny to him, and it was with that thought in mind that he entered the arena.

The third time was when he returned home victorious. Of course, there were lots of people congratulating him — his relieved family and everyone else — but the only thing he saw was you, walking toward him. He didn't think it was of his own volition, considering you was with your father and brother, but as soon as you approached, you wore the best, most beautiful smile he had ever seen you give. And for the first time in years, you spoke to him.

"Congratulations on winning, Finnick. I'm glad you're back... well, we're glad."

He could see the smile on your father’s face, though he couldn’t say the same for your brother. Not that he minded. So he just smiled back at you — not the smile he reserved for the Capitol, but a real smile.

"Thank you. I'm glad to see you too."

He saw you get embarrassed, and he wanted to laugh at that. But he wouldn’t — not in front of your father. Not yet.

For the rest of the day, he listened to his father talk about how much your father complained about you, because you wouldn't stop talking about Finnick. His father laughed as he ruffled his hair affectionately. And it’s not like Finnick was going to complain.

Everyone said it was normal for girls to have a little crush on boys who won at something — at least, that’s what the people he knew told him. Maybe that’s why, two months later, it was as if Finnick no longer existed to you. You were back in your own world, with your friends, without him. Not that it bothered him — not really.

The next time he really saw you, you were sixteen, and he was eighteen. He was a mentor now, and when your name was called at the reaping, he could see on your face how much you hated it. Most people didn't care or thought that a dead kid from District 4 wouldn't make much difference, since you wasn’t a Career or someone important. Finnick hated it — but he would never say so.

He also remembers how, for whatever reason, you didn't put any effort into your training. He thought it was because of what everyone thought of you as a tribute, or maybe you just didn't give a damn about dying in the arena. He didn't admit it at the time, but he had been terrified that you wouldn't make it out of the arena alive. He also remembers how surprised everyone was by your training score — including him. It was a ten. He remembers it clearly, and you didn't seem to mind.

On the day of the Games, all you did was say goodbye to your stylists. You didn't look in anyone else's direction, but he didn't blame you. If you were going to become one of the last survivors, there would come a point when you would have to kill someone. It wasn't something everyone wanted to face.

He remembers seeing you in the arena — you did well. For the first few days, you kept to yourself, hiding and trying to survive. But at some point — he can't say exactly when — things changed. Perhaps it was when the male tribute from your district was killed, or when you saw a pair of boys, just twelve years old, die.

It wasn't a change that anyone on Capitol had noticed. But Finnick knew you well enough to say that the deaths of people you barely knew had affected you. He still remembers when one of the tributes from District 4 was a twelve-year-old boy - you didn't know him, but you still went to say goodbye. You were only fourteen.

And at that very moment, you had just thrown an axe into the head of the boy from District 3 who had killed the twelve-year-olds. You hadn't thought — you had just acted. Obviously, this had a positive consequence for you in the Capitol's eyes, because a while later, you were sent food that would last for about four days.

He remembers the exact moment you won. He wanted to say he was relieved, but that wouldn't be fair to you. Until you left for District 4, you didn't say a single word to him. Perhaps because no one was looking at you with such high expectations anymore, you felt confident enough to speak.

"Do you regret killing those people to survive?"

"No."

He had to be honest; he couldn't lie. But after that, he didn't hear your voice again for the rest of the journey — you didn't even look at him. Still, when you arrived in District 4, you acted as if you were fine, as if you didn’t care.

He also remembers when you became friends. It was a good thing — a big step, considering that before, you wouldn’t even look him in the face. Now he understood why. Even though it hadn't seemed like it before, you had lots of friends. You were funny, entertaining, and you cooked extremely well. Finnick admitted that he envied your food — and he couldn’t lie about that.

He obviously remembers the following year, when the two of you were mentors. You were only seventeen, but you didn't seem bothered about directing two people toward a possible death. He saw how hard you worked not to get attached to either of the tributes, because if they didn't come back, you wouldn't feel guilty. But when Annie returned, alive and safe, he also saw you break down. You hugged her as if she were going to disappear. And he didn’t blame you for that either. Over the next year, no one ever brought up the subject of Annie becoming a mentor.

When you were nineteen, things went to another level. Once ignored, now he was kissed when no one was watching — well, that was a breakthrough. He remembers every kiss, every smile. He also remembers when you woke him up at dawn to help Annie. He didn't mind; he was spending time with you and helping a friend.

While he was making tea, if he looked over his shoulder, he could see you hugging her, whispering what sounded like a lullaby — the kind you sing to babies when they can't stop crying. He could see how much you loved and cared for Annie, and that always made him fall in love with you a little more, even if he didn’t know it at the time.

He certainly remembers the time he told you he loved you. You had just turned twenty-one. You said it back. And you held each other for the rest of the night.

He also remembers the 74th Hunger Games. He saw your relief when those two young people, madly in love — though he didn't believe in that farce — survived together. You didn’t know them, but you were obviously happy for them.

He also — sadly — remembers the Quarter Quell. When his name was called, he had imagined it would happen. But that day, once again, he saw you. Annie had been called, and before Mags could volunteer, you did. He saw you hugging Annie, comforting her as he heard her whisper "sorry," but you just smiled at her. And as you hugged, he heard you say:

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't let that happen to her again."

"I know..."

He didn’t know. No — actually, he did. He just didn’t want to admit it, because admitting it meant facing the reality that this year, he’d be going into the arena with you. And he didn’t even want to think about that.

In the arena, he did everything he could to protect you, Katniss, and Peeta. He really wanted the plan to work. He believed that you would be fine if they separated. But when he woke up, you weren’t there with him. You were in the Capitol with the others. For the first time in years, he wished he had died in that arena when he was fourteen.

He felt it the moment he got you back — you weren’t really there. He spoke to you, but you didn’t listen. And if he tried to touch you, he saw you despair, screaming as if he had hurt you. And he felt that way — he felt guilty for letting the Capitol lay even a single finger on you. They told him to take it easy. He wanted to tell everyone to fuck off, but when he looked at you, he knew they were right.

At that very moment, he was keeping you company, obviously giving you space — he didn’t want you to get hurt. But when he heard you calling him, he admitted he was desperate; you hadn’t even looked him in the face for days. So probably, if you had asked him to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness, he would have — even if he didn’t need to. But he held back.

"Finnick?"

"Yes, dear? Do you need anything?"

"I'm sorry..." It came out as a whisper.

"Hey, hey, what are you apologizing for? You have nothing to apologize for."

"I..." You didn’t manage to finish before tears welled up in your eyes.

"Hey, hey, please don’t cry..." He tried his best to comfort you without having to touch you. But before he could decide what to do, you hugged him — a little hesitantly, but you hugged him. And at that moment, he collapsed. He shouldn’t have cried — not when you were in such a fragile moment — but he couldn’t help it.

For a moment in his life, he had thought he had lost you, that he would never see you again. And at that moment, he decided he would never let go of you — not with the possibility of losing you again. He would never let that happen. He would always see you now.

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lyrakanefanaticwriting · 2 months ago

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i got this request on my other account and figured i’d do it since it seems like it’d be a funny fic!!

i want to give credits to @alwaysthefangirl as i based a lot of my ideas of “lyra being stubborn and not wanting help when shes sick” around her fic, and seriously ive reread that one countless amounts of times omg. anyway thank you for being the amazing writer that you are and inspiring me to write this with your own fic. i dont think i would have been able to write this so quickly if it werent for your fic that seriously helped me write this one so thank you!!! <33

A Sick and Stubborn Lyra

(could you tell that i couldn’t think of a title? 😜)

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

Lyra knew she was sick. She knew it the other day when her entire body was feverishly burning up and she couldn’t evade the constant dizzy spells, and she knew it now as she felt the same way—no, worse.

She thought that sleep might heal her, and she’d done a good enough job at hiding it from Grayson, but it was no use. She had classes, classes she couldn’t risk missing as she’d just added an extra one to her schedule, and despite her feverish state, had to be present for them. No matter how dry and aching her throat felt, or how her head was heating up astronomically.

Crawling out of her sheets as quietly as possible, Lyra cast her gaze to the blonde sleeping peacefully beside her. Grayson. He looked so beautiful while he slept, so at peace and calm.

Lyra reminded herself that she had a mission that Grayson couldn’t distract her from: get ready and out of the house while Grayson’s asleep/getting ready so he doesn’t see the state she’s in.

Fully getting out of bed, Lyra softly walked over to her walk in closet, where she clicked the door behind her quietly and put on her clothes as softly as possible. Then she tip-toed past a, thankfully, still asleep Grayson towards her bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and did her skin care for the day. Every movement sent her head spinning and made her body ache, and once Lyra spat out her toothpaste, she collapsed onto the mat in her bathroom and tried her best to breathe. She gave herself only a minute of sitting on the floor and trying not to pass out, before getting up, not bothering with make up, and walking out the bathroom.

She knew she was being sloppy. She no longer cared about being quiet; all that mattered to her was getting out of the house without fainting or throwing up first.

With her teeth clattering in her mouth and sweat beginning to bead on her forehead, Lyra grabbed her car keys with slow, aching movements, and was just about to stumble out the door when she heard a low rumble behind her.

“Lyra?” Came Grayson’s sleep riddled voice. Shit.

Lyra didn’t dare turn around, as if she did, he would see how sick she is and make her stay home. Not today, Grayson. Thought Lyra through clenched teeth as she tried not to shiver.

“I’m about to leave, Gray, but I’ll call you at lunch.” Lyra said, before freezing once she realized how terrible her voice was.

It visibly sounded scratched and nasally, and she didn’t sound well in the slightest. She froze as she heard Grayson’s steps behind her.

“Wait, Lyra.” Grayson ordered. Lyra would have spit back a retort if she wasn’t in her current state. Pulling her forward by the waist, Grayson turned her around, and she immediately saw surprise cross his features. Lyra furrowed her brows.

“I’m fine. Let me go.” Lyra ordered, hoping her (regretfully) sharp tone would ward him off.

But nothing really warded off Grayson Hawthorne.

Grayson placed his hands on her shoulders, his bare chest breathing in and out slowly, and he seemed to be looking over her, seeing how bad of a state she was in.

“You’re not going to your classes like this.” Grayson told her. Lyra rolled her eyes.

“I’m fine.” Lyra stubbornly told him, before sneezing, trying to take a step back, and stumbling to the ground. The sudden movement left her head reeling, and her body would be aching along with that if it weren’t for Grayson, who caught her in his arms.

“Breathe, sweetheart. I’m right here.” he told her softly, lips pressing onto her neck. Lyra went limp at the sudden affection, growing dizzier. She shuddered in his arms, and he suddenly picked her up, carrying her bridal style to their room.

“Breathe.”

Lyra awoke from her sleep a couple hours later, tangled in sheets with her hair splayed out on the pillow. Lyra lifted her head up—and then immediately regretted it. Her head was hit with a terribly dizzying feeling, and it was burning up wildly. Lyra slouched back down.

Searching the room, she tried to look for Grayson, but all she could see was his laptop and notes splayed on the ground beside her bed. Their room didn’t have a desk, aside from Lyra’s vanity, and Grayson’s office was in the other room. Lyra’s heart warmed once she realized he’d worked on the floor to keep an eye on her.

Looking towards the bathroom and seeing that the light was on, she realized that Grayson was inside. Lyra pulled herself up slowly, her body screaming at her all the while to lay back down, and sat up. She didn’t want to do anything, but she knew she had to.

“Tea,” she could remember her mother telling her as a child whenever she get sick, “is a remedy for all ills. Now drink!”

Granted, tea was never Lyra’s favourite, but tough times called for tough measures.

Peeling off her sheets with aching movements, Lyra ignored the thumping sound in her head and got up, shaking terribly. Pressing her freezing hands to her burning forehead, Lyra began to walk to the kitchen, pushing down the dizzying feeling the best she could.

Once she got to the kitchen, she bent down shakily towards the cabinet, opened it up, took out the kettle—and that’s about as far as she got.

Well, as far as she got before she heard her name.

The tone of which Grayson said Lyra was clearly not happy. Lyra winced as she stood back up, and saw Grayson come into the kitchen with accusing eyes. He was all dressed, clad in a suit with his hair fixed, and Lyra couldn’t deny that he looked good. So good that she forgot that he was currently staring at her as if she had just learned to walk.

“What are you doing up?” He accused, striding up to her and reaching to take the kettle from her hands. Lyra moved her hands away, hiding the kettle behind her and away from his reach.

“Making tea.” she said stubbornly, coughing all the while. Grayson’s eyes were concerned as he studied her, moving hair from her face to really look at her.

“Sweetheart, you aren’t well. Please go back to bed.” he told her softly. Lyra only rolled her eyes.

“I’m fiiiiiine.” she said, breathing hard and sniffing. Words became harder to say when she was sick. Grayson’s eyebrows furrowed, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.

“I’ll carry you.” he warned. Lyra rolled her eyes again, waved him away with his hand.

“No. Go work.” she told him. Grayson sighed before lifting her into his arms the same way he had earlier with ease. Lyra squirmed, which only tightened the grip he had on her.

“Hey.” Lyra said, trying to make her tone as threatening as possible, even though her voice was nasally and scratched. Grayson looked at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead before placing her in bed.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Apparently, I’ll be right back meant I’ll get every pill and remedy there is and force it down your throat. So far, she’d taken 4 pills, drank 2 cups of tea, had a popsicle for her throat, and was now getting her temperature checked by Grayson all while she laid in bed with a cold rag on her head like a sick peasant.

“102°F. Not good.” Grayson tutted, putting the thermometer down and fixing her with a concerned look. That’s all he was doing today: finishing up some documents, fretting over her, and fixing her with concerned puppy-dog stares.

Well, she liked the stares, but the fretting could be taken down a notch.

“Can’t I get up?” Lyra asked. Grayson gave her an unimpressed look.

“You’ve asked me that 4 times in the past hour and each time I told you no. What makes you think now you’ll get a different answer?” he replied. Lyra sighed.

“At least let me walk around the walk in closet. It has a stool if I get tired.” Lyra reasoned. She didn’t have much of a desire to walk around her closet, but laying down and doing nothing was much worse. Grayson gave her a look.

“What do you need that’s in that closet?” he asked her. An innuendo popped into her mind at the same time as an actual answer. Her choice on which of the two to say was obvious.

“If I can’t convince you to let me get up, I think my red thong that I keep in there can.” Lyra retorted simply, giving a half shrug and grinning despite her state. Grayson tried to look unimpressed, but she saw how his cheeks reddened slightly. Win for me, Lyra thought giddily.

Lyra realized then that her only entertainment in this jail cell that was her bed was riling up Grayson. And so she took every opportunity to.

“Grayson, my blankets are bothering me.” Lyra complained.

“Then take them off.” he replied simply from where he was sitting on the floor, talking his gaze away from his papers to look at her. Lyra peeled her blankets off her body, before slyly smiling.

“Grayson, my pants are bothering me.”

Every time she told him sly innuendos, he would act unaffected and continue doing what he was doing, aside from a few telltale signs that he was actually affected, like him clearing his throat, or his cheeks reddening, or, her personal favourite, his pupils dilating. After a few of those, her entertainment (Grayson) was no longer being entertaining. Every suggestive remark was becoming ignored, or he would just switch the topic. Now Lyra was irrevocably bored again.

Picking at her nails as she laid in bed, Lyra sighed. Then she sighed again. Sighing once more, she glanced down at Grayson who was still sitting next to her bed while working on his laptop, and wasn’t saying a word. Lyra huffed. She might as well sleep, if she had nothing else to do.

Turning to her side and closing her eyes, Lyra started to feel herself finally drifting to sleep.

She awoke a few hours later, drowsy, but overall feeling much better compared to earlier. It was now 6 PM, and Lyra doubted that she would be able to sleep tonight with all the napping she’d been doing.

Sitting up, she noticed that although her head was still hot, the aching feeling like somebody had just ran over her brain was gone. She felt less dizzy, too. The symptoms that had stopped her from getting up and generally being mobile earlier were gone. And, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, it was because of Grayson.

Lyra felt a little bit guilty then. She had spent the whole day trying to avoid his help, when without him she would probably be feeling even worse by now.

She looked to her side and realized that Grayson wasn’t there. Neither was his laptop or his papers. He must have switched to his office, Lyra thought. Then she pulled off her covers and got up. She still had small chills, and so she threw on one of Grayson’s Harvard sweaters, before stalking to his office. She used to knock when they first moved in, but Lyra never does it now.

Opening the door, Lyra quietly walked in, and saw Grayson working at his desk. Once he heard the door open, he turned to her, smiling that faint, beautiful smile of his that she’s so familiar with.

“I’m sorry I left the room. I had an online meeting to attend and I didn’t want to wake you up.” he explained. Lyra paused. He was apologizing to her? She was the one who owed him an apology.

Without a word, Lyra walked over to him and sat on his lap. He was surprised, but only slightly. Lyra usually liked to sit on his lap while he did work.

Turning around to make herself comfortable, Lyra rested her head on his shoulder while her legs were halfway tucked on his lap. Grayson smiled softly again, placing a hand on her thigh while the other was on his laptop. Still, his eyes were on her.

“Are you feeling better sweetheart?” he asked her, his voice gentle. Lyra nodded, and the guilt she felt then from his concern was tremendous.

“I’m sorry.” she said. Grayson raised a brow as his expressions grew curious and concerned.

“What for?” he asked her. Lyra bit her lip.

“For trying to avoid your help all day. I was acting stubbornly but I was too sick and stupid to realize.” Lyra admitted, looking away. Grayson froze, before taking her head in his hands.

“Don’t say that. Don’t say anything like that. You weren’t at all stupid, Lyra.” he told her, his eyes deep with emotion and oh so beautiful as he gazed into hers. “I know you can be stubborn. And every stubborn act of yours makes me love you more and more.” Lyra snorted, pulling her gaze away.

“Okay, I know you love me, but you don’t have to lie.” she said, humour tinging her expressions. Grayson’s, on the other hand, were dead serious.

“I’m not lying, Lyra. I love how stubborn you are because I love the fact that you are so set on your goals, and on your choices. You’re strong and determined, Lyra, and that comes with your stubbornness today.” he told her, resting his forehead on yours. “I wish I had even half as much of your perseverance. I always will.” Lyra couldn’t stop her smile from coming. He always saw her better than she saw himself.

“Grayson…” Was all Lyra said and all she could say before pressing a soft, gentle kiss onto his lips. Then she sprung back, groaning.

“Shit, sorry Grayson, I forgot I was sick-“ Lyra said, before she was cut off by Grayson pressing his lips to hers and giving her a deep and passionate kiss. Lyra returned it, and the two continued the kiss, pressing and pulling before finally separating. Grayson smiled at her.

“I would get sick a million times over if it meant being able to kiss you.” He told her softly. Lyra smiled sheepishly.

“I wouldn’t say that if I were you. This sickness was terrible enough as it is. Having it a million times more would be hell.” Lyra said, sighing. Grayson’s smile widened slightly, and he moved her off his lap to one of his thighs, both his hands firmly gripping her waist. Lyra’s cheeks reddened slightly.

“Ah, so now you admit you were sick?” Grayson teased, cockiness clear in his voice. Lyra rolled her eyes, and was about to respond when a notification suddenly went off on Grayson’s laptop. Lyra turned her head and saw an email pop up. He made an irritated noise in the base of his throat, but Lyra only laughed.

“Okay, I guess I should be letting you work now after you took care of me the whole day.” Lyra said. She was just getting up when Grayson pulled her back down on his thigh, his grip on her waist still firm.

“I thought you said there was another way of convincing me to let you get up?” Grayson reminded her. “A way that involved… something from our closet?”

His voice was deep, and, at the moment, a bit hoarse. Grayson also had a teasing look on his face with eyes that were currently thunder cloud dark. Lyra didn’t even know why, as her mind drew a blank.

Then, shock and a burning feeling spread across her features.

And Grayson’s eyes, that were staring much more now, darkened further.

————————————————————————

GRAYSON YA LITTLE FREAK

hope u guys enjoyed this!! it was fun to write ESP lyras innuendos hehe those were funny

#fanfic #lyra x grayson fic #lyra x grayson #lyra catalina kane #lyra kane #grayson hawthorne #the grandest game #the inheritance games #nash hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #the brothers hawthorne #fanfiction #lyrason

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7975348473 · 2 days ago

Note

Hi, I love your fics. Could you write one where Lyra and Gray have a really big fight, break up, and then get back together after a while?

Breakups Don't Last.

------------------------------ Relationship/s:- Lyrason (Lyra x Grayson), The Hawthorne Brothers. Post- The Grandest Game

I recommend you read "The Rolex Chronicles" before this fanfic,in order to understand it better, but its not necessary.

-------------------------------

LYRA

Grayson and Lyra hadn't been properly communicating for quite a while. It wasn't intentional, of course.

Half of Grayson's thoughts were still preoccupied with Lyra and half of Lyra's thoughts were still plagued by her asshole.

It was just that, between Grayson's work at the firm and Lyra's studies, they couldn't talk much.

So, apart from the occasional "How are you?", "Did you eat?", "I love you" and "I miss you", they weren't interacting. Of course, Lyra had noticed. And she hated it.

But she had figured that, once both of their lives calmed down, everything would return to normal. Return to just them.

Life had other plans, though.

Grayson was tired. Lyra was beyond exhausted. Yet they still took out time and decided to meet one another, that's what love did to a person. Unfortunately, though, their lack of communication over the past few weeks finally took its effect.

They ended up arguing.

“Lyra, I honestly don't remember??” Grayson said, sounding absolutely exasperated. Which only hurt Lyra more.

“I- Gray. You planned the event??” Lyra immediately shot back.

“And I forgot. I'm sorry, its just work has been-”

“Do not give me that excuse again, Gray, because I have been perfectly busy too, but I remembered.”

Grayson ran a hand down his face, his smile was completely gone now.

“I'm not giving you an excuse Lyra, its the truth and sadly inevitable.”

Lyra let out a frustrated groan, “Inevitable, Hawthorne? Really? You're the one that suggested we go out this weekend and then forgot. This was perfectly avoidable.”

Grayson's eyes bored into her, as if he was trying to read what was going through her mind.

“You're right. This was perfectly avoidable, I shouldn't have tried in the first place.” He sounded cold.

Lyra tried to remind herself that they were both just tired, that they were both lashing out for no reason, yet she couldn't get herself to stop.

Her scoff was cruel.

“Or you could have remembered?? Set a reminder or something. This is the third event of ours that's been cancelled-”

And so they went back and forth over and over again.

“Oh, my god. I cannot even with this right now.” Lyra said after they had argued for a good twenty minutes. She raised her hands in defeat and began to pace the room to keep her cool.

“With what?” Grayson pried, he wasn't masking his anger either.

“I don't know genius. The event? This? Us?”

When Grayson was angry, he didn't yell or scream or turn red. No, when he was angry, he put on his poker face. His cool, unbothered façade. He went so unbelievably still, seemed so unbelievably calm, that people were unnerved.

And that demeanor never faltered when he was in a bad mood.

At least that's what Lyra had thought up until then.

The moment the word “Us?” left her mouth, Grayson's expression changed. For one split second, he looked shocked, taken-aback, broken.

Lyra knew immediately where she had erred. She didn't mean that. Not one bit.

“Gray-”

“Then leave.”

Silence.

Lyra felt her world tilting on its axis as she repeated those words again in her head.

Then leave.

He wants you to leave. He wants you to leave.

A small part of Lyra whispered, He doesn't mean that.

Lyra took a deep breathe.

But what if he does?

She looked up to meet Grayson's gaze but he wasn't looking at her anymore. His head was turned to the side as he glared holes into the floor.

“Leave?” She asked, her voice sounded indifferent. A broken kind of indifferent.

A heavy silence followed, which answered the question for her.

“Alright then.” Lyra turned on her heels, walking fast towards the door. She needed to get out of there.

“This is the end, Hawthorne.”

Lyra grabbed her car keys and was about to snatch her coat from the stand when she realized that it wasn't hers.

The coat she had been using was her boyfriend's. Or, her now ex-boyfriend's

Lyra's hand retreated and she barged out the door. She didn't let the tears come, she had a long drive ahead of her.

But where am I going to go?

She decided on Miles End, making up her mind to drive for nearly a day and a half.

Lyra sprinted to the parking area and spotted a man standing in front of her car.

“Excuse me, can you please move? I need to drive.” She tried to sound as polite as she possibly could at that moment.

The man turned to her, “Actually, I have been assigned to drive you wherever you'd like.”

Lyra felt her heart tug.

Maybe Grayson didn't hate her?

She pushed the thought away. He had told her to leave, he didn't want her around anymore and she would respect that.

“I decline the offer, now please leave.” Lyra said, making her way to the drivers seat.

“M-miss! I insist-”

Lyra sent the man a levelled glare, ordering him to back off, “You are dismissed, sir.”

The man gave a small bow and left. Lyra almost felt bad, she hadn't meant to scare the poor guy, but she wasn't exactly emotionally stable at the moment.

Finally, sitting there alone in the car, her feelings bombarded her. A broken sob escaped her lips.

Lyra didn't think her life could have a lower moment than when the memory of her biological father began to haunt her. She had been wrong.

This was so, so much worse.

Because Lyra had a taste of what love felt like, what being whole felt like, what being with him felt like.

And she had screwed it all up. She had ruined it.

Lyra felt like somebody had ripped her heart out of her chest, threw it to the ground, stomped on it a hundred times and put it right back in her chest.

That would be better than this, actually. She thought.

Everything hurt.

And he wasn't there.

Lyra's entire body shook as she sat their in the car, crying her heart and soul out.

She had lost him. He hated her. They were over.

-------------------------------------

GRAYSON

Grayson's brain didn't process what had went down until she slammed the door shut behind her.

She left.

Lyra was gone.

And he had told her to leave.

Grayson's eyes widened slightly.

When they had started arguing, Grayson knew it wouldn't be a short 'scream and finish' argument. They both had been tired, they both had lashed out.

But he never expected for this to happen.

Grayson took a step back as the weight of the situation finally settled in.

Lyra left. She's gone. She isn't coming back. We broke up. She hates me. It's over.

He fell back on the sofa without meaning to, his legs had given out. Grayson had faced heartbreak before, this was something else. Because what was his life without Lyra? What was he without Lyra?

How did this happen? Why did this-

He took a shaky breathe. He tried to steady himself.

He failed.

---------------------------------------

LYRA

It was hard to keep her eyes open for nearly 29 hours after having an entire sob session, but Lyra was stubborn as hell.

She had drove. An entire 29 hours. No eating or breaks. Just driving

And she was now at Miles End.

Lyra stood at the front door staring at the door knob as she contemplated whether to tell her mom. What to tell her mom. She took a deep breathe and stepped in.

“Mom! I'm home!!” Lyra screamed as if her arrival was to be expected.

Her mom ran out of the kitchen, “Lyra?! Oh my goodness-”

She hugged her, Lyra let her.

“You came alone?? Where's my soon-to-be-son-in-law?” She asked, looking back to the door to make sure nobody was left behind. That he wasn't left behind.

When Lyra didn't reply, her mom turned back to her.

Lyra had decided before hand that she wouldn't tell her mom, she didn't want to worry her. She didn't want her mom to see her despair.

Her mom turned around and gazed over her entire body, toes-up. Her eyes lingered on her face. She didn't say a word.

She simply took Lyra's hand and led her to the living room.

Lyra followed like a lifeless corpse.

She took a seat on the sofa and signaled for Lyra to follow suit. She did. And then, her mother took her head and gently pried it onto her lap, Lyra was stunned for a moment.

But that's all it took.

She wrapped her hands around hers mother's waist, face towards her mother's stomach.

The tears came of their own violation.

----------------------------------------

GRAYSON

Grayson had dealt with heartbreak before. This was not the same.

He didn't know what to do. What to think.

It had been nearly a week since the argument, since the break up. Grayson hadn't so much as left his room. He didn't shower, didn't eat, didn't sleep.

Life felt bland, pointless, like nothing.

Suddenly Grayson heard voices coming from outside the door, his usually sharp ears, though, didn't process what they were saying until they entered his penthouse.

“Nope. We've given him enough time to sob. We cannot handle this gently anymore.” Jameson

“Agreed.” Said Xander and Nash heaved a heavy sigh.

They stepped into his room and froze.

Obviously, whatever it was they were expecting, it wasn't this.

Grayson, laying down on his bed, looking surreally pale- symbolizing a corpse. Judging by how disheveled his clothes looked, he obviously hadn't changed from his previous pair, leave alone bathed.

He looked miserable. Dead, almost.

His three brothers stood there, trying to process what they were seeing. It didn't feel right. Nothing about the scene said Grayson.

Jameson snapped out of it first.

“Grayson. What are you doing?” He practically screamed, Nash shot him a glare but he ignored it.

When Grayson didn't reply, didn't move, Jameson walked forward.

“Oi! Grayson-” Nothing.

“Gray! You can't stay like that for the rest of your life. Get up.”

Followed by, once again, nothing. Not a glare, not a scoff not even an eye twitch.

Jameson's eyes widened slightly. This was bad.

Nash and Xander stepped up beside him as they all looked down to Grayson's extremely still body-practically-corpse.

They were stumped.

“Okay!! Its obvious my dearest brother here is in need of some scones. And chaos. A lot of chaos.” Xander declared.

He produced a scone out of his pocket and handed it to Grayson, when he didn't move Xander began to wave the scone in front of his eyes.

“Brother! Earth to Brethren!! Hey, its a once in a lifetime moment that I share my scones, are you seriously going to miss out on this??” Nash and Jameson snorted, Grayson remained still.

Silence.

Xander looked slightly panicked and even Jameson was shook.

Nash then picked Grayson up and they all moved to the living room. No one had to say anything, because when a Hawthorne was down and depressed, only one thing helped them lighten up.

“Karaoke Time!!” Jameson and Xander screamed simultaneously.

And the brothers did what they did best. They chaos-ed. They chaos-ed so hard that Xander had just about lost his voice, Nash had ditched his cowboy hat and Jameson's shirt had come undone. Yet, despite it all, Grayson had still not moved.

Finally, his brothers stopped.

They all shared a look, they needed to face this head on.

Nash sat down next to Grayson, who was just staring at the floor. He wore no expression but it wasn't what you could call his poker face.

His poker face only came up when he himself was in control, this expression was something else.

It was broken.

“Gray.”

Nothing.

“Look at me lil' brother.”

Grayson didn't. He didn't so much as move a muscle.

“I feel a tackle coming in~~” Xander tried. Still nothing.

Finally, Jameson stepped up.

He simply moved and sat down on the other side of Grayson and then, without warning, he smacked their wrists together.

A loud clinking sound was produced.

Nash and Xander looked confused, they looked to Jameson and Grayson's wrist and saw two Rolexes.

Two matching Rolexes. Bestie Bands.

Finally, Grayson looked to Jameson and Jameson met his faltering gaze.

“You alright, bro?”

Grayson shook his head slowly as his brain began to catch up with reality once again.

A broken sob escaped him, and then he couldn't stop. The sound kept coming, shattered and crushed.

Jameson was immediately there, wrapping his arms around his brother, Nash put his strong arms on Grayson's shoulder as he shook.

Xander's eyes looked slightly glassy, he was the youngest after all. He wiggled himself between Jameson and Grayson's bodies and wrapped his hands around Grayson's waist.

All four brothers stayed like that for a while and Grayson's brain finally formed one coherent thought.

What'd I do to deserve these three?

A/N: Everything. Gray, my child, ur the bestest.

-----------------------------------

LYRA

It had been a week and five days.

An entire 288 hours without Grayson, and Lyra was not coping well.

She would randomly explode during the day and cry herself to sleep at night. Things were not looking good.

Lyra's mom had told her that she needed to be stronger for herself and try to get over the entire situation.

But it was easier said than done.

Because getting over Grayson Davenport Hawthorne seemed to get more and more impossible with every passing hour. How were you supposed to get over somebody that perfect, somebody you didn't even want to get over??

Lyra had been trying though, to pull herself together for the sake of her family. She was miserably failing.

No matter what she did, her brain would always find a way to wander back to him. If she was cooking she'd think, "Grayson likes less spice in his food" Or if she was watching TV she'd catch herself thinking, "Grayson's favorite show comes on today."

And then reality would catch up with her, but that wasn't the worst part.

No, the worst part was the thought that came after.

You shouldn't be thinking about him anymore. You can't.

It was that thought, that thought that made her heart squeeze, that made it hard to breathe.

Thinking about Grayson had always come naturally to Lyra, as if he was always meant to live rent free in her mind. And Lyra had loved to think about him, her boyfriend.

Hell, she still loved thinking about him, and that's what anguished her.

Lyra still thought about him, still loved him but she had lost the right to do so. She had hurt him by saying she was tired of them, she had left.

It was all her fault.

"Lyra!! Get down here, you have a guest!!"

Lyra flinched awake. She had been trying to sleep off her heart wrenching reality for a little bit, but it seems her mom had other plans.

A guest?

No one knew Lyra was back in town, so who would have come to visit her?

"Quickly!!"

Lyra dragged herself out of bed unwillingly, she barely had the energy to stand. She walked over to the mirror and stopped, looking herself up and down.

God. I look terrible.

Lyra's eyes were brimmed red because of all the late-night-crying-sessions and her hair was all over the place, not to mention her tear stained cheeks.

She let out a heavy sigh and grabbed a scrunchie, putting her hair into a quick messy bun and then washed her face.

When she was done tidying up, she realized... she still looked like shit.

Screw it.

Lyra flew down the stairs, making up her mind to wrap this up quickly.

"Mom, who is i-"

Lyra reached the end of the stairs and paused upon seeing the guest, she was absolutely floored.

A tall man in his early twenties, equipped with a cowboy hat stood at the front door.

What''s Nash doing here??

Lyra proceeded to have a mini freak-out.

Oh no. He probably heard what happened from Gray. Does he hate me too? I would hate me if I were him.

Nash's voice reeled Lyra out of her trance.

He smiled and said, “Hey lil' darlin'.”

Lyra was, once again, floored. Why was he smiling at her??

“H-hi.” She replied. What were you supposed to say to your ex-boyfriend's eldest brother?? Lyra certainly didn't know.

“Can I get you anything, Nash?” Lyra's mom chimed in.

Nash turned his gaze from Lyra to her mom, “No, thank you though. I'd just like a few moments with my lil' sis' here.”

Lyra's eyes widened slightly at the endearment. Lil' sis?

She took a deep breathe, trying to calm her emotions which were brewing up a storm, internally. But why was he being so nice to her??

“Please come in.” Lyra said finally.

Nash walked into the living room, his eyes travelled around Miles End as if assessing and judging the house.

“Um- can I ask why you're here?” Lyra asked hesitantly.

He plopped himself down on the sofa, turning his gaze to her and that's when it hit her.

He's probably here to return the stuff I left.

When Lyra had left Grayson's pent house so abruptly, she had forgotten all of her belongings.

“I already told your mom didn't I? I just wanna talk with you for a little while.” Nash drawled, Lyra felt a comfortable warmth settle over her.

Why was he being so nice?

“Oh, I also needed to give you something your forgot.” He quickly added.

I knew it. She thought.

Unexpectedly, Nash reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph. Lyra looked at him, slightly surprised, before taking hold of the picture.

Her breath hitched.

The picture had 5 smiling girls in it, Avery, Max, Gigi, Savannah and Lyra.

It had been no secret that Lyra loved the photo, she had framed it and kept it in her room and it seemed Nash had noticed.

But it wasn't the photo she loved exactly, it was the moment that had come with the picture, the photographer.

------------

“Alright people, gather around!! Our photographer is ready to do his job!” Jameson yelled from across the park.

Grayson rolled his eyes. A habit he had picked up from his girlfriend.

The five girls, who had been screaming and messing around, ran on over to have their photo taken. Grayson was ready with his camera.

The girls posed, putting up two fingers to make the peace sign, grinning. Lyra had been smiling too, the same smile she always wore in all her photos. A practiced smile.

Grayson was adjusting his camera when he suddenly frowned. A frown so minute you could barely see it but Lyra knew it was there.

She was confused, 'why is he upset all of a sudden?'

Suddenly, Grayson looked up at her and their gazes met, the rest of the world seemed to tune out. Because, god, he was looking at her like that again. Like she was the world and the stars and everything else that came with it.

And then, Grayson Hawthorne- the beautiful asshole, smiled. He really smiled. The type of smile where his eyes softened and his eyes wrinkled slightly.

Lyra's breathe caught. How was he so unfairly beautiful??

But Grayson Hawthorne was contagious.

Lyra found herself returning the smile and then the camera sounded click, he had taken the picture.

And she had been smiling. A real smile. Meant for him.

The moment was incredibly private, but Lyra knew she'd cherish it forever.

They would be forever.

-------------

Lyra ignored the way her heart squeezed and her throat closed up. She smiled at Nash.

“Thanks, Nash.”

“So, what have you been up to?”

Lyra thought that over. Oh- the usual, crying, having mental break downs, etc.

She couldn't exactly say that, though.

“I've been trying to learn a new dance choreography I found online. Its pretty nice.” She settled for a half-truth.

Lyra had been trying to learn a new ballet choreography, true. But she had also been unsuccessful in doing so because even the slightest violin note reminded her of him and then she felt her eyes burning.

Nash's eyes bored into her, and suddenly Lyra was reminded of how crappy she looked.

“Max and Xander managed to almost burn down the entire house. Again.” Nash deadpanned.

Silence.

Why was he telling her this? Weren't they going to talk about Grayson?

“Oh.” She replied finally.

He adjusted his cowboy hat “Yeah. They were apparently trying to make scones with some sort of alchemy for science.”

Lyra snorted at that.

“Let me guess, Alisa had their head?”

Nash shot her a look, “Worse. Xander is banned from touching scones for two days and Maxine is not allowed to read any romance novels.”

Lyra couldn't help it, she giggled.

Leave it to Alisa to find the most perfect ways to punish people.

Lyra and Nash talked, discussing the stupid found-family that resided within the Hawthorne household. And for the first time in the past two-ish weeks, Lyra felt slightly happy. Slightly at ease.

“I can't believe him sometimes, honestly.” Nash said in reference to Jameson.

Lyra rolled her eyes, “That sounds like Jameson. Stupid half-british ass.”

Nash paused for a second, meeting her eyes before laughing. Lyra found herself joining in.

Finally Nash stood up, a smile still on his face, “I should get goin' now. A long trip ahead and everythin'.”

Lyra stood up too and walked with him slowly, towards the door. She wasn't sure why he came all the way to Miles End just to talk to her.

Once they reached the door, Lyra spoke.

“You can say it.”

She hadn't meant to open her mouth, but now that she had, she couldn't find it in herself to stop.

Nash turned to look at her.

“W-why,” She took a deep breathe, “why haven't said anything about Grayson? You have the right to be mad. You're his eldest brother.”

Nash didn't say a word as he continued to look at her.

Her vision began to blur, “I'm sorry. Its my fault. I got mad first and lashed out like an idiot. I-”

She tried to steady herself, ordering her tears not to fall, “Grayson, he- he deserves better than m-”

Lyra was cut off by Nash's strong arms wrapping around her upper back and pulling her close. Lyra was stumped.

And then a sob escaped her. Followed by another, and the she was breaking down again in Nash's embrace.

“Shhh, its okay lil' darlin'.”

--------------------------------

GRAYSON

“For the last time, Jamie. No.”

It had been exactly two weeks since the break up.

And saying Grayson had not been taking it well was a major understatement, weren't these things supposed to get better with the passage of time?

How come he felt like dying then??

“C'monnnnnnn. What're you gonna do lazing around here, marinating in your depression?” Jameson retorted.

Grayson sent him a glare, “Do I look like I'm in the state to attend a social party, Jamie??”

He didn't. He looked terrible actually.

He hadn't had a proper meal in ages, which made him look skinnier than usual, his hair was disheveled and he wasn't even dressing properly anymore.

The Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, who always looked too perfect to be real, looked far too human at the moment to be considered even okay-adjacent.

"Heartbreak doesn't kill a man, and it certainly doesn't kill a Hawthorne." Tobias Hawthorne's words echoed in Grayson's mind.

And then he snorted. Then what the hell is happening to me right now, old man?

“Gray. Please. Why can't you try and move around a bit? Touch some grass?”

Grayson didn't deign that with a response.

Jameson muttered something incomprehensible, “You're gonna die at this rate.”

Then Grayson met his eyes, “Good.” Before turning his attention back to his phone.

Silence.

When Jameson didn't say anything Grayson looked back up at him, planning to tell him to leave.

His tongue caught when he saw Jameson's expression, though.

Jameson was a lot of things.

Reckless, stupid, a daredevil, whipped, narcissistic, perhaps even an egoist in the making. But that was mostly just a front. He, like all of his brothers, was taught to suppress his feelings, to never let his emotions catch up with him.

So when Grayson saw the expression Jameson was making, he was taken-aback to say the least.

Jameson's eyes were glassy and he was holding his breath, like if he let go then he'd come crashing down with it. His hands were balled up into tight fists and he was glaring holes into the floor.

He looked angry, helpless.

Scared.

Grayson thought the situation over again. To him, dying sounded perfectly fine, hell he already felt dead. But Jameson wasn't okay with that.

“Three hours. Then I will leave.” Grayson deadpanned.

The way Jameson's face lit up reminded Grayson of when they were kids, when they actually confided in one another. When it was just them.

He almost smiled.

“See you then, Gray.”

-----------------------------------------

LYRA

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too.”

Lyra groaned.

She had been trying to help her mom cook when her phone suddenly went off. She ignored it initially but then it rang again.

Lyra had stormed off, ready to snap at whoever dared call her a second time when it was obvious she didn't want and wasn't going to pick up.

She was slightly shocked when she read Avery's name. Pleasantly shocked.

“Avery. I. Am. Not. Coming.” Lyra paused after every word, trying make her point.

“Whyyyyyy??!!”

“I literally live 29 hours away?! I can't just show up for an over night, quote on quote, 'social party' and leave-”

“I'll just send a private jet to get you, please come.”

Lyra forgot she had rich friends.

But travelling wasn't the only problem. What if Grayson is there?

Lyra wouldn't mind seeing him, in fact, she wanted to. Really, really badly. But Grayson hated her. What if he got angry when he saw her? What if he ignored her?

She didn't want to think about it.

“Lyra. We haven't so much as talked in two weeks, I miss you. Just for a little while. Please.”

Lyra felt warmth wrap around her heart. She had missed Avery too. The two girls had talked all the time when Lyra was still dating him.

“... Alright.”

She heard Avery gasp and then squeal from the other side of the line.

“But only for a little while, okay?”

“Of course, darling.”

--------------------------

LYRA

Lyra had considered ditching the entire plan and running away a million times but she pushed the thought away every. Single. Time.

Yet, as she stood in front of the Hawthorne Gates, gazing at the huge crowd, she cursed herself for not escaping while she had the chance.

I am done for, aren't I? Welp. No turning back.

She walked in.

Lyra was, in a way, an introvert. She hated huge crowds and loud noises, so this party was not appealing in anyway.

Just find Avery, say hi, get out.

She walked through the crowd and spotted Avery.... with Jameson.

Yay. Off to a great start.

Lyra turned around and stalled for a little while, praying that Jameson left his girlfriend's orbit for just one god damned minute.

There was no way she was facing any of Grayson's brothers today.

Thankfully and surprisingly, Jameson did walk away. That was almost sketchy, Avery and Jameson were practically inseparable at events.

Lyra decided not to look into it and walked on over.

"OH MY GOD LYRA!!!" Avery screamed and immediately hugged her. Lyra laughed, returning the embrace.

She still couldn't believe that both Nash and Avery didn't hate her.

"Its been so long, girl. Where have you been?"

Lyra gave her a soft smile. There was something to Avery, something that allowed Lyra to open up and be herself.

"At Miles End. Dying, I think." She said it as a joke, but it was true.

Avery stared her down for a before they continued talking about the most random bull crap, laughing at terrible jokes.

Lyra turned around to grab a drink from a bartender and that's when her gaze fell on him.

About 10 feet from where Lyra stood, a man with beautiful blonde hair and shining grey eyes stood. His posture was perfect, one that said that he was a man of power and not afraid to use it.

Grayson Hawthorne. Gray.

He looked skinnier, his dark circles had grown slightly, too. No one else saw it, she did, though.

Lyra's heart beat picked up, she felt like a stupid girl with a crush again. She couldn't help but stare, forgetting that Avery was talking.

He looked immaculate as always, glorious as he smiled.

And he was talking to a girl.

Lyra tried to ignore the way her heart squeezed, he's not yours anymore, Lyra. Get a grip.

"Lyraaaaa, earth to my favorite kitty!"

She snapped out of it and turned back around to see Maxine Liu standing next to Avery.

Lyra couldn't help the smile that broke out on her face, Max was a force to be reckoned with and Lyra loved her for it.

The three girls went on yapping, when suddenly a very familiar song came on. One everybody knew.

Shape of you.

Max squealed, "Lyra."

Lyra didn't have to guess what Max was implying, "Max. No."

Avery smiled at the both of them, "Why not?"

Lyra sent her a withering glare, "I just don't want to."

Max rolled her eyes, "Who are you lying to? You always want to dance."

She had a point, Lyra did in fact want to dance. It'd help her get her mind off of Grayson smiling at another girl.

God Lyra, stop acting like you're still dating him. Her heart squeezed again.

But if she were to start dancing, chances of Grayson spotting her would be at an all time high. She couldn't risk that.

"C'mon pleaseeee, its been so long since we all danced together." Avery pleaded and Max joined in.

Lyra sighed, feigning exasperation as a smile broke out on her face.

Well, I suppose I could dance just a bit.

And the three girls walked on over.

Lyra looked to her two best friends as they began to dance, Lyra let the music come, felt it in every bone of her body and then she was swaying to the beat.

------------------------------------------

GRAYSON

Like every other event Grayson had ever attended, this party too, was extremely taxing.

People put on nice facades and talked to others only so that they could benefit themselves.

In fact, this party was much worse.

Not only was Grayson still trying to cope with the separation from Lyra, as it turns out, news of the break up had spread far and wide. People jumped at the opportunity.

In the one hour Grayson had been present at the party, he had been flirted with at least 50 different times and that was rounding it off.

His brother was not making that much better.

"Oh! Gray, here comes another one~" Jameson teased, signaling towards a girl whose clothes seemed far too suggestive for Grayson to feel comfortable.

Wrap this up quickly. You control the room. Grayson reminded himself.

He was wrong. This girl was demanding and stubborn.

"Hey there hottie~"

Grayson tried not to cringe as Jameson snorted.

"Yes, miss?" Grayson replied, ever-so formally.

"I hope you know CPR, because you just took my breathe away." She replied.

Jameson turned his head around, covering up his laugh with a cough. Grayson fought to remain polite.

"That's quite funny, miss."

"Oh please, drop the title, just call me mine." She said, adding a wink.

Grayson was dumbstruck, can this woman not take a hint?? Jameson was having far too much fun.

"I'm sorry, ma'am?" He said, emphasizing the new title. This woman was getting on his nerves.

"Hmm, maybe 'mine' is not to your liking?? Then what about girlfriend?" She said, sounding smug.

Jameson tried to cover up his grinning by sipping his drink.

Grayson was floored, "Um. No thank you."

"Aww, you wanna take it fast then? Alrighttttt, you can call me wife."

Jameson choked on his drink.

Grayson choked on air.

What in the world was going on??

"I'm not interested, so-" She cut Grayson off.

"Yet. You're not interested, yet."

Grayson blinked. What?

The lady spun on her heel, she shook her head, her hair falling down to her waist and she threw off her coat.

"My dance will enamor you." She declared.

Jameson was barely holding it together, she then boldly walked to the dance floor, never once breaking eye contact with Grayson.

Then she started dancing.

Grayson shot Jameson a withering glare as he laughed. Hard.

"OH MY GOD, THAT WAS PEAK. AHHAHA-" Jameson barked

Grayson was considering actually digging up a hole and just dying, the woman didn't even dance well for all her boasting. She looked like a robot was attempting to do ballet.

Grayson's gaze wandered over the dance floor before it landed on one girl. He'd recognize those moves anywhere.

Far left, Grayson's gaze rested on a girl with long dark hair which had been left open, her golden-tan skin seemed to shine in the disco light as she danced to the beat like the music had possessed her.

Lyra.

He noticed the way her moves seemed more dragged out, as if she was tired. Her smile was fake and her dark circles had increased.

Yet, she still looked breathtaking.

Grayson didn't bother hiding his stare.

---------------------------------------

LYRA

Lyra got carried away.

She knew it the moment she felt his gaze on her, unwavering as he stared.

Lyra didn't know whether she should hate herself for dancing in the first place or hate herself for liking the fact that she had caught his attention.

He's probably glaring. She thought.

I mean, his ex-girlfriend did quite literally just attend a party his family had hosted. Lyra groaned.

"You guys, I'm tired." She said, coming to a stop. Her body ached for more.

Avery and Max shared a look, "Alrighty, lets go chug some drinks!!" Max yelled.

Lyra shook her head as they began to walk off the dance floor, that's when two guys stepped in their path.

"Hi." One guy said, speaking to all three of them but his eyes rested on Lyra.

Lyra wanted to ball his eyes out.

"Hello." Lyra replied as Max and Avery spectated.

"I happened to see you dancing and I must say, you can groove." He said.

Lyra heard Max and Avery snort the moment the weird guy said groove. She shot them both a glare.

"Um... yeah. Thanks. Now please move aside." Lyra replied, trying to make her disinterest clear.

The man was stubborn.

"Actually! I was wondering if we could have a drink together?" He asked, sounding confident in his abilities to make a woman swoon.

Lyra raised a single dignified brow. She had learned that from Grayson. Her heart ached yet again and she immediately pushed the thought away.

"I'm sorry, but no." She said, crisp and firm.

That should do it. Lyra thought.

"Oh come on. you can spare a few seconds-" The man started.

"She said no." Avery stepped up along with Max, who was now glaring.

"Um... I don't remember including you in this conversation?" The man had the audacity to say.

Lyra thought about reaching for her heels and beating the living shit out of this guy, but she couldn't since that'd tarnish Avery's image.

"Really?? Well I remember Lyra telling you to back off and you not listening you motherfaxer!!" Max said.

"Look. Everyone knows she's single, so she doesn't have any real reason to reject me?? Why should I-" The man began.

"She's my sister-in-law and best friend." Said Avery and Max simulatenously.

Lyra whipped her head around to face them.

Sister-in-law?? She wasn't dating Grayson anymore, what were they on about??

Avery sent her a look. Lyra let out a breath and turned back towards the man.

"You heard her. I am married and taken. Walk away."

The man and his friend snorted.

"Who do you think you're lying too??"

Lyra was about to reach for her heels, when she felt a hand suddenly land on the small of her back. She froze.

She knew that hand, that touch. She knew it the way she knew her own body.

Grayson.

Lyra leaned into the touch out of pure habit, she relaxed into the intimacy.

Shit! Pull back. Lyra ordered herself.

But then Grayson's hand moved from her back and slithered over to the side of her waist. Everywhere he touched burned and Lyra felt her heart begin to race.

She blushed hard.

"Don't make her repeat herself."

The man looked up at Grayson with wide eyes, obviously, he wasn't expecting this. To be fair, Lyra hadn't either.

Grayson's voice turned dark, "Scram."

The man and his friend didn't need to be told twice, they ran like their life depended on it.

Avery and Max smirked at Grayson, knowing fully well where this was going, before they, too, took their leave.

Yet, Lyra couldn't focus on them.

Her focus was fully on the man behind her.

Grayson. Suddenly the party hall seemed too small and she couldn't breath properly.

Neither of them moved until Grayson retracted his hand. He made to move away but Lyra was faster.

---------------------------------

GRAYSON

The guy with the death wish finally left.

Grayson had considered sending Oren after him or beating him up himself but his anger completely dissipated when his gaze landed on her again.

Lyra. Grayson's heart swelled yet he felt nervous.

Her eyes were downcast, her hair covering the side of her face. He saw the tiniest tinge of pink on her ears.

Grayson didn't let go at first. He couldn't.

Lyra was right here. Right in front of him. He wanted to pick her up, run away with her and apologize until she forgave him. But he wouldn't do that.

Not unless she wanted him to.

Grayson loosened his hold on her and then let go completely, he turned to move when her hand latched onto his.

He froze.

She wants me to stay. Grayson pushed the hopeful thought away. He turned around to face the goddess, that was Lyra.

She wouldn't meet his eyes as she stared down at where her hand held his arm.

"U-um. I- uh." She began.

Grayson's heart began to race, he had almost forgotten how much he liked her voice.

"Can we talk?" The words were out of his mouth before his brain had even processed it.

Lyra looked up at him then, eyes blown wide.

Shit. I screwed up.

"Yes." She said finally.

Grayson paused. then blinked once. Twice.

Yes?? She said- she said yes?! Yes!

He grabbed her hand and walked the both of them off the dance floor and towards the "Staff Only" area.

Once they got there Grayson let go of her hand and turned to face her properly. The Staff Only area was unfairly small.

They deserved better than one small square room??

Grayson noted to mention that later.

Grayson's gaze landed on Lyra and, this time, she was looking too, Grayson's breathe caught.

Suddenly the rest of the world didn't exist.

She's here.

------------------------------------------

LYRA

Lyra noticed the way Grayson's eyes travelled around the small staff room he had led them to.

She observed as his face went from stoic, to observant, to disappointed, to serious before his gaze landed on her and then all of his feature softened.

Lyra's heart swelled. Why was he looking at her like she was fragile? Like she meant something??

She had hurt him.

Lyra had made up her mind on the short walk to the room that she would apologize to Grayson and that, no matter the outcome, she would live with it.

No matter how upset it made her.

But, now, with her staring into his beautiful deep eyes, she couldn't seem to remember any of the points she was going to say.

"Lyra." Grayson broke the silence, he said her name like it was a secret. A promise.

Lyra didn't know what to say.

You're beautiful? I love you still, but I'm also a dumbass and hurt you?? Why are you looking at me like that?? Her mind ran through her options.

"Hi."

She slapped herself mentally.

hi? HI?? REALLY??

Grayson blinked, slightly taken a back, before a smile broke out on his face, Lyra's breathe was taken away.

How was it fair that he smiled like that and she was supposed to let him go?

"Hi, Lyra."

She looked down as she blushed slightly, god this is embarrassing.

A silence followed, but it wasn't suffocating or awkward. It was comfortable. As if the rest of the world had disappeared leaving just their slow breathing.

They both stood their, absorbing the others presence. It felt like coming home.

Lyra felt her eyes burn slightly at the familiarity of this situation. Grayson always gave her this sense of comfort. Did she really have to let it go?

You brought this upon yourself. Apologize.

Lyra took a deep breathe, "Grayson."

Grayson kept staring at her which made it hard for her to focus, "Yeah?"

She looked up and met his gaze, "I'm sorry."

Grayson's eyes widened slightly.

"I-," she took another deep breathe to try and calm herself, "I shouldn't have lashed out. That was stupid of me."

She tried to keep the tears at bay, but one fell anyway.

"If you hate me now, I completely understand. But I want you to know that when I said us-" her voice cracked, she kept going.

"When I said I was tired of our relationship. I-" She calmed herself. Lyra needed Grayson to know that she truly meant this.

Lyra's gaze steadied and she met his eyes.

"I didn't mean it. Not in the slightest."

Silence.

"I'm not telling you to forgive me or anything, I just need you to know I'm sorry and-"

"Stop." Grayson said finally, Lyra did.

His voice sounded deep, hoarse, guttural. As if it was taking everything in him to keep firm. He looked both confused and surprised.

"Lyra, why are you apologizing??" Grayson finally managed, his breathing was slightly shaky.

Lyra paused.

"Why-," he ran a hand through his hair and walked closer to Lyra, making her heart beat pick up again, "Don't apologize Lyra. Its not your fault."

Lyra stared at him, she couldn't process what he said at first.

Not my fault?

Lyra turned the phrase over in her head as her eyes widened, what did he mean?? It totally was her fault?

"Lyra, you weren't the only one who lashed out. I did too, and that was dumb. As hell." He let out a breath.

Lyra couldn't believe her ears, was Grayson blaming himself?

"And no matter what you might have said, Lyra, I was the one that told you to leave."

Lyra's breathe caught once again.

"I told you to leave like I wanted you gone, like I was tired of you. I acted like that freaking penthouse was mine alone."

Lyra gulped, "It is yours, though, Grayson."

"No. No its not. Its not just mine. Lyra, when I asked you to move in with me, the place became ours. Its yours just as much as its mine."

If Lyra wasn't crying before she certainly was now.

"I shouldn't have told you to- fuck. I-"

Lyra didn't let him finish, she threw her arms around his neck. Grayson went still for a moment before his arms wrapped around her waist tightly.

They stayed like that for a while, with nothing but the sounds of Lyra's sobs slowly dissolving into nothing but silence.

Just them

"I love you." Grayson said, finally.

Lyra thought she was done crying but she had been wrong.

"And you don't have to say it bac-"

Lyra pulled away from him, looking him dead in the eye, "I don't have to do anything Hawthorne. I chose to come to this party. I chose to follow you here. I chose to apologize to you and-"

Lyra smiled, "I choose to love you, Gray."

The wind sped up, making the room slightly chilly, but Lyra didn't care because, god, Grayson was looking at her like that again.

Like she was the entire universe and he didn't need anything but her.

Grayson closed the space between them first, taking her chin and prying it upwards. She closed her eyes and they were kissing.

It wasn't a slow kiss, not at all.

All of the pent up emotion- heartbreak, anguish, regret, lust and love- all of it spilled out in their intimacy.

Neither of them were holding back, Grayson picked her up with practiced ease and set her down on the singular table in the room, Lyra wrapped her legs around his waist as if they were always meant to be there.

They finally broke apart gasping for breathe. Lyra's head was on his shoulder and she could feel Grayson's breathing by her ear.

Butterflies flew around in her stomach.

Lyra lifted her head and met Grayson's eyes, he looked at her- his chest still moving up and down, trying to catch his breathe.

Her hands went to his face, she started from his forehead, moving down to his cheek bones to tracing his jawline. She committed the moment to memory.

"That girl was fucking annoying." She said finally.

Grayson paused before he burst out laughing, Lyra couldn't help but smile at the warm noise.

"I can sympathize with that, though, the guy was worse." Grayson said. Lyra groaned.

"God don't remind me." She said, exaggerating as she put her head back on his shoulder.

Grayson pulled her closer.

"We aren't going to get anywhere here." Lyra said.

"..what?"

Lyra pulled back again, her eyes alight with something new, "Well? Won't you give me the chance to make up for being away for so long??"

Grayson's entire demeanor changed. He grabbed her hand, "There's a short cut."

Lyra laughed. She couldn't believe it.

She looked at Grayson's beautiful face, his eyes taking on a bluer shade in the moonlight.

She had been sure that she had lost Grayson forever, that she didn't deserve him in the slightest, but she had been wrong.

Because in the end, Grayson chose her and she chose him.

Isn't that really all that mattered?

------------------------------------------

UM?? WOW- THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC YET. I AM BLOODY PROUD.

Personal belief that Lyra can be just as freaky as Grayson, try me.

I hope u enjoyed ahahah :DD (Grayson's POV was a challenge, pls don't come at me.)

Constructive Criticism: @lyrakanefanatic @musiwashere @inkstainsonmyfingertips @alwaysthefangirl @talahsaudiobooklibrary (newest author on the block <3)

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ann-lol · 2 months ago

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I honestly never understood y/n, especially in fanfics.

When I get SO obsessed with a character I just genuinely want them to get a love interest so I can see them being all lovey dovey with their partner. I want to read fanfics of this couple, as I squeal like a banshee and roll around the floor giving my parents every reason to lock me up in an asylum-

But apparently a lot of people like to make themselves the love interest, which I find both confusing and interesting.

Maybe my brain isn’t advanced enough to put myself in a story like that or maybe I just love shipping people too much but I could never do that, even if I tried 🥲

#also y/n never really acts like me LOL #I am not y/n and y/n is not me #kotlc #kotlc fandom #keeper of the lost cities #keefe sencen #the inheritance games #thg series #thg #xander hawthorne #y/n #fanfics #kotlc ships #thg ships #book ships #fandom ships #shatter me #ann thoughts

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wish-i-were-heather · 10 months ago

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A FOOL FOR YOU PT 4⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 2642 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5)

STORY: well, y'know. you can't ignore a 911 text from a hawthorne

WARNINGS: none really, reader does struggle to swim tho and freaks out a little

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @ravishinglyliving @maybxlle - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

A/N: EEK I LOVED WRITING THIS. i didn't describe the reader's swimsuit because i don't know what everyone is comfortable with so i let you kinda imagine it however u want! i'm not sure how many more parts i can get out of this idea, there'll definitely be at least one more lmk what u think tho

He said please.

Grayson didn’t lack manners. It’s not that he didn’t know how to say please and thank you. But he also wasn’t the kind of person to throw around a plea lightly. Grayson Hawthorne was, well, a Hawthorne. The name itself was a demand, not requiring a please. But he’d felt the need to say please to you.

Maybe you were overthinking it.

Or maybe you were still in denial, like Avery said you were.

The texts came in at eight at night, too, which only raised more questions in your mind. If he wanted to talk to you, why hadn’t he just found you? Or simply texted you to meet somewhere? You didn’t understand why he’d felt the need to use the 911; you would’ve come if he’d just told you to go to the pool.

Hawthornes did tend to have a flare for dramatics, you supposed.

You had no idea why Grayson wanted you to meet him at the pool. He was a swimmer, sure, but that was very much his personal time. Grayson didn’t often appreciate people watching or joining him in the pool. But, you figured there was a chance he expected you to.

So you found yourself at her door again. Despite the faint conversation you could hear from inside, you knocked.

Avery took longer than last time to open the door. “What’s up?” She asked.

“Hey. Uh, do you have a swimsuit I could borrow?”

She frowned slightly, confused. “I mean I do, yeah, but why-”

You didn’t even have to say anything. You just showed her your phone screen with the text messages. Her eyes widened as she read them and she immediately opened the door wider for you. “Get the hell in here.”

Avery was already digging through the grand dresser. As you entered the room behind her, you noticed Jameson sitting on the floor in front of a deck of cards, giving you a curious look. “What-”

“Not now, Jamie,” Avery quickly answered. “Girl problem.”

That shut him up.

“Don’t mind him,” she told you, turning back around with a few items in hand. “We were just playing solitaire.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Together? Isn’t that a one player game?”

“His idea, not mine. Managed to turn it into a competition too, somehow,” Avery shrugged. Jameson gasped dramatically but she continued before he could speak, bringing your attention back to why you asked for help. “So, I’ve actually never worn this one before, you could keep it if you want. Or-”

“That one’s fine,” you interrupted, taking it from her. “Can I change in your bathroom?” “Oh, uh, yeah, sure I guess,” Avery answered, clearly confused as to why you were so quick to answer. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get there as soon as I can. Thanks.”

You didn’t change completely, just putting it on and putting your clothes back on over it. You didn’t plan on getting into the water, but it was worth being prepared.

As you were stepping out of the room and thanking Avery, Jameson called, “Say hi to Gray for me.”

Your head snapped back. “What?”

“Come on,” he smirked. “He’s practically the only person who uses the pool, especially at this time. So tell him I said hi.”

Shaking your head, you just ignored him. Jameson was the type of person who could read people well, so odds are he probably already knew he was right. But you didn’t want to give even more of a reaction to him than you already had.

Avery grabbed your arm though, before you left. “Hey, hey, good luck.”

You thanked her and left, just hoping Jameson wouldn’t try to watch from the window.

The cool night air hit you sharply as you stepped outside. It hadn’t been too chilly during the day, but you now found yourself wishing you were in more than just shorts and a thin hoodie.

Shivering, you made your way over to the pool. Your mind was racing the whole way there, but there wasn’t really anything else for you to be wondering. Grayson had asked for you to come to the pool, presumably either to swim with him or just because he was most comfortable there. Either way, it was pretty clear that he wanted to discuss what happened when he was drunk. But you still didn’t understand why he sent the 911.

Good thing you were on your way to finding out.

The pool deck was empty, save for a few lounge chairs. The fancy cushioned kind, the ones you would only find at a hotel. And the Hawthorne mansion, of course.

On one of the chairs were two neatly folded towels- two. So he did expect you to get in the water with him? Where was he anyway? If he’d already brought out towels, why wasn’t he-

Splash.

You’d been too caught up in your thoughts and the sound of your heart racing in your chest to realize that Grayson was, in fact, already in the pool. Swimming laps because he was Grayson Hawthorne, so of course he was swimming laps when the sun had already set and the only light in the sky was that of the stars.

Swimming had never really been your thing, so you didn’t know the exact stroke, but you would’ve been a liar if you said you weren't somewhat mesmerized. The way his arms went up and out, the way his fingers glided along the surface before entering the water once again. His legs kicked together, the movement fast and almost indiscernible under the blue of surrounding him.

Grayson came up for air so quickly you couldn’t even make out his face, but your eyes caught on the way his hair flicked up with his head. It was certainly a skill, and he managed it so gracefully. You struggled to look away.

Thankfully, you were pulled out of your stare when he suddenly reached the wall nearest to you. Grayson’s hands touched the edge of the pool in perfect sync. You could see the red in his face, the tire he was giving himself from swimming. You wondered how long he’d been there before you found him.

Grayson met your eyes with a tired smile as he caught his breath. “You came.”

“You said 911,” you explained, sitting on the edge of the chair where he’d set the towels. “I figured it was pretty important.”

“Yes, I did.” He nodded. “We do only get one of those a year, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to any of my brothers.”

“Got it.”

He was avoiding the elephant in the room.

“Would you like to join me?”

You stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused,” he said. “Would you like to join me?”

Was he really just going to ignore the fact that he’d sent you such an urgent message? A 911 could’ve meant he was dying, for all you knew when you’d first received it. And what, it was because he wanted to go for a swim with you? There was more he wasn’t saying and you just wanted to yell at him to spit it out.

Instead, you responded calmly.

“Join you in the pool?”

Grayson looked you up and down and shook his head. “I suppose you can’t really, not without proper swimwear.”

You got in the pool in a suit when you were drunk, you didn’t say.

“I have a bathing suit on under this,” you explained. “I just… why do I need to get in the water? Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath.

“I’ve decided I owe you an apology. For what happened.” You knew immediately what he was referring to. “I was reckless and foolish and unintentionally put the burden of myself onto you. It would have been easier for you to just leave me be, but you dealt with my mess. I appreciate that.”

The silence that followed was only interrupted by the gentle lapping of the pool.

“See why I figured you should get in?” He asked. “We’d be at an even level. Better suited for such a conversation.”

“Or you could just get out,” you offered.

“Please?”

That word again.

Grayson Hawthorne knew what he was doing.

“Fine,” you groaned, but really only half annoyed. You turned around as you began to take off the layers above the swimsuit, watching him in the corner of your eye as he looked away respectfully.

The cold hit you even harder now that you had removed your hoodie, and you hoped that the pool was well heated.

“Okay, okay.” You began walking over to the edge of the pool where Grayson was. When his eyes found you, he stared for a little longer than normal before answering.

“You’re nervous,” he observed. “Can you swim?”

You shrugged, taking another step closer. “I know how to stop myself from drowning.”

Grayson moved out of your way and you sat on the edge of the pool with your feet getting wet. It was heated, thankfully. Comfortably so. No wonder he loved to come here at night.

He was watching you silently. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it was killing you. Not that anyone could ever tell what Grayson Hawthorne hid behind those piercing eyes, but yet another question amidst everything that had happened that week was too much.

Of course he’s a mystery, he’s a Hawthorne.

Before you could overthink it even further, you got in.

The warmth of the water enveloped you, contrasting greatly with the chill of the night air. You were holding onto the wall, not planning on letting go because your swimming skills were just barely above that of a child starting swim lessons. But Grayson’s intense gaze kept your heart racing.

He swam towards you, grabbing onto the wall a little closer but still leaving a respectful distance between you. “Do you know why I sent the 911?”

“No,” you admitted. “It scared me.”

“I apologize for that. I panicked.”

You hadn’t expected that confession from him.

“You panicked?”

He nodded slowly. “I was afraid you’d think less of me after how I acted. You haven’t spoken to me in days, so I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” The vulnerability in his voice was tangible.

“It’s not that I’ve been trying to avoid you, Grayson,” you explained. “I just… I mean, you haven’t spoken to me either.”

“I thanked you, I thought we were past what happened. I didn’t think we needed to talk about it.”

“You thanked me and then flirted and walked away.”

Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Did I?”

“You know very well what you did,” you said, trying to hide the blush on your face.

He swam a little closer. His voice dropped to the same sincere tone it had adopted back when he was drunk. When you’d told him to be careful and he’d cupped your face. When he said he’d never hurt you, never.

“Perhaps I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that I burdened you with my drunk self.”

“You’re not a burden, Grayson,” you told him, also pushing yourself closer to him along the wall. “It was no problem, really. Just a little entertaining.”

He chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or bitter.

The way he was looking at you was making you feel something. Something you couldn’t name but… didn’t quite hate. You started to move yourself a little closer to him until-

Splash.

Your hand slipped off the edge of the pool, accidentally sending you back. Not exceptionally far or deep into the pool, but enough to make you panic. You could keep yourself afloat, sure, but not when you were suddenly pushed away from the only solid thing keeping your head above water.

But before you could fully let the panic set in, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you upwards.

The sensation of being lifted was disorienting. You were overwhelmed by the sudden rush of water and movement, then the lack of water as your head reached the surface again. Even if you’d barely been below the water for a few seconds, you found yourself gasping for air.

Grayson’s arm around you was the only steady thing in the chaos.

“Hey, hey” Grayson spoke, and it took a moment for your startled mind to process the words. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to focus. It took a moment for your breathing to calm down, but you helped yourself by rationalizing it; you’d been under the water for maybe five seconds, there was no need to panic so much.

The shock had just gotten you.

His voice broke through again, focusing your vision and hearing on him. “Just breathe, in and out. Nice and slow, just like that.”

You followed his instructions, taking deep breaths. Your panic began to fade, and you became painfully aware of how close he now was to you, the proximity at which he held you.

Grayson didn’t let go as you calmed down, simply keeping you tucked protectively in his arm as if the water was threatening you. He used his free hand to reach up and brush a wet strand of hair from your face behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so careful, that you felt your heart flutter.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Thank you.”

He only nodded in return, his usually sharp gray eyes beginning to soften as he stared down at you. He didn’t move his hand away after moving the hair out of your face. It stayed there, lingering around your ear, until he decided to move down, cupping your face.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time that shirtless Grayson Hawthorne was holding your face in his large hands and looking at you in a way that was more than an annoyed glance.

But it felt different this time. More intense, more real.

He wasn’t drunk, not hungover; there was no doubt in your mind that he really meant everything. His eyes were still locked on yours with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place, yet somehow felt deep within your core.

He leaned forward, so close to you that your foreheads were almost touching. His eyes fluttered shut and you realized what was happening only after you felt the words he whispered against your lips-

“I’m sorry.”

Grayson closed the small gap between you, gently pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, like he was giving you the chance to pull away or tell him to stop. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into the kiss, the arm around you tightened.

Your hands moved on their own, both sliding their way up to rest on his chest. He responded to your touch with a low hum that made you shiver despite the heated pool.

His arm moved up to the back of your head, pushing you impossibly closer to him. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, like he was trying to express every emotion he’d been hiding for the past week. It was overwhelming, and for a moment nothing existed outside of you and Grayson Davenport Hawthorne.

When he pulled back, you kept your eyes closed. Grayson placed a small kiss on your forehead before resting it against his own. You were so close now, much closer than before, but that didn’t matter anymore.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he admitted softly.

“Me too, Grayson,” you grinned. “Me too.”

When he kissed you again, he tasted like those stupid cherries he loved and felt like the end of the world.

#grayson hawthorne #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson x reader #the inheritance games #the grandest game #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #tig #tig fanfic #tgg #mightier than your sword𓂃🖋

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f4iry-bell · 7 months ago

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CHANGE MY MIND

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

summary: grayson pushed reader away sm that he lost her.

tagging: @unnoodles @never-enough-novels @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @imaseabear @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07

warning: angst

a/n: inspired by @daystarpoet 's cai 🤭pls do check it out, it's amazing.

masterlist

He does it again, he has been pushing her away for the past week, not telling how he really feels. Whenever she asks him, it's always “I'm fine” , the obvious lie. It was so frustrating for both of them as Grayson just won't tell her what is up, and she can't just watch him go through something alone, without understanding.

Grayson was currently driving her to this event they're supposed to go to, something that's hosted by the heiress for charity. The problem is the drive was filled with Graysons lonely suffering, he wanted to be alone at the moment, especially with her constantly asking what's wrong. He was a patient person but he needed her to stop it, without thinking he snapped.

“Will you ever stop? I said I'm fine.” He gripped the steering wheel.

“I'm just trying to under—”

“No, you're trying to be annoying.” The words stung her heart. She didn't expect him to ever use such a word on her.

She looked at him with slightly teary eyes but she didn't want him to see her, so she turned her face towards the window, and kept quiet the entire ride.

Grayson, realising what he has done, gently put his hands on her knees to show her he didn't mean it, but she barely acknowledged his touch or him. She completely ignored him. It hurts Grayson that she ignored him, but he knew he deserved it. After all, he led her to this.

After the teacher held the event, she didn't wait for Grayson to open her door, she immediately got out and started walking to the event. Grayson, given his speed, caught up to her quickly. Once they were in he put his hands on the small of her back as he led her through the crowd, they met some new people, he introduced her to them as his girlfriend as if nothing is going on between them right. She slipped away from him for a while, while he was thinking about the situation, and his habit of isolation, distancing himself. She came back to where she left him, and spoke.

“Avery invited me to stay over at her place. You can leave if you wish to, I'll be going riding with her and Jameson.” She said, her face was flushed a bit.

“Oh.” He wasn't processing what she said at first. “You don't have to leave with them.” He gathered himself.

“I should.”

“No, you're doing this on purpose.”

“So?”

He hated how calm her tone sounded, but he knew her body language said otherwise.

“So you're being childish. We have an argument, and you don't want to face the aftermath.” He pointed.

“No, Grayson I don't. And it's rich coming from you because you don't face anything! You don't face me when you're feeling like—I have no clue what— and I have to sit here, and watch you go through it alone!” She snapped.

The words hit him, he knew it was true, and he hated it. When she noticed the lack of reply she shook her head, and walked away but Grayson caught her arm, gentle yet firm.

“Don't walk away from me.”

“Why? I thought I was annoying.”

“Don't— you're being difficult.”

“No, it's easy. You push me away, and now I'm going away. It's as simple as that.”

“No, you're being stubborn.”

“And you're not?” She scoffed.

“I'm sick of this, always arguing with you, always asking for answers that I can't give you. I'm sick of it.”

“Then let me go.”

He loosened his grip on her hand.

“No, Grayson, I meant let me go. Out of your life.” Her shoulders relaxed when she finished her sentence. Grayson's stiffened.

“I…You don't mean that.”

“I do. You either let me in or let me go.”

Grayson looked down, and shook his head. “You can't put me in this position.”

“No. I'm not, if you can't be vulnerable, if you still feel not comfortable enough to be vulnerable with me after six months of dating, then I don't think I'm the right person for you, Grayson.” It hurted her to say the last part. She really thought they were going to last forever when they started dating.

He was awfully quiet, he was deciding what to say. He knew what his problem was, but he just couldn't tell her. This is the right thing.

“Maybe you're right.” She knew what she said but hearing it from him was worse.

She nodded her head. “I'll take a cab home, and move out tomorrow.”

Grayson helped her with the cab. He wanted to be close to her at the last moment, because he was never going to get her back. After everything he did, and said she'll never take him back.

#the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne fanfic #jameson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #avery grambs #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #the grandest game #games untold

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inkstainsonmyfingertips · 1 day ago

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we're all mad here.

ꨄ︎ -when it's been a long day at the bookstore where you work and a mysterious customer walks in. rohan (from the inheritance games fandom) x reader.

word count: 1.1k.

warnings: none.

The past couple of hours had been particularly busy from the heat outside that brought in tired customers looking for the cool salvation of air conditioning apart from the usual souls looking for comfort in the pages of books. As the sun started to set and the heat died down so did the customers.

The bell rang again, as you lead a customer to the romance section. It was a raven haired man-no, a boy-he looked around your own age-an adult but only barely.

His hair wavy and mused but only slightly-just enough to look effortless. The boy was tall, the sleeves of his white shirt pushed up-you wonder why in the world he's wearing a button up today of all days when the weather had reached up too ninety degrees.

You couldn't lie though, he certainly looked handsome in the peculiar outfit, the white of his shirt contrasting with his tanned skin-almost like he was straight out of a book-tall, dark, and handsome.

You're shaken out of your thoughts by the customer next to you clearing their throat awkwardly, "Right, I'm so sorry," you realize that you've been clutching the book in your hands quite tightly.

Loosening your grip, you point with one hand to the aisle in front of you, "the book you're looking for should be down there."

The customer mumbles a small thank you, and walks down the narrow makeshift hallway. You turn around to see the boy in front of you.

He’s so close.

You’re surprised to see him again so soon, customers usually wandered around peering the shelves, before approaching you for help.

You look up at him, his dark eyes are sparkling with mischief and curiosity, they remind you of fallen autumn leaves. Your heart skips a beat or two when he smiles at you, “Hello,” he says voice low enough for you to hear.

Your throat parches,

What's happening?

Butterflies flit through your stomach as your thoughts begin to slip away, like fish swimming in and out of coral to escape predators.

You can’t remember what you were going to say or do. So you go back the well practiced words that you first learned working at the store, “Hello, what are you looking for today?”

His eyes glint with amusement, you wonder what’s going through his mind.

“Well, you tell me,” he gestures to himself, “What kind of books should a person like me read?”

You pause for a minute, hearing his accent.

British, he's British.

You wonder where he had come from, this boy was a certain mystery, but you had a liking for the unknown and making it known to yourself. That's when it clicked, why not give him a taste of his own medicine,

"Mystery seems your cup of tea, what do you say?" you give him a small, teasing smile.

He raises his eyebrows, an easy smile still on his lips. Maybe a little too easy, "Very funny, a tea joke-how original."

His eyes drift down your body, resting on the book, "What about that book?" he nods to the little book.

You look down, Little Women.

You almost laugh out loud, but you don't, reminding yourself it's best not to make quick judgements, "Um-sure, I mean-I'm not a stereotype supporter, but I don't think you would like this book."

You hand him the book, fingers brushing slightly, but just enough to know that his hands are warm.

He looks down at the book, turning it over, "Little Women, what an interesting title."

His mouth moves with silent words as he reads the description. You watch him and his quiet contemplation, it wasn't everyday a handsome guy walked into the store intently wanting to read "Little Woman" out of all things.

He looks back up at you, his mouth quirking into a small smile, as you raise an eyebrow in questioning, "Well?"

He turns the book around again, smile growing again, his brown eyes sparkle with interest, although you're not sure if it's in the book or in you, "I'll take it."

You take the book from his hands, he looks a bit surprised, but only for a moment before he quickly hides it away, although his face is no longer as bright as before.

"Calm down," a smile creeps up on your face, he reminds you of a child when their mother takes away their favorite and well-loved blanket to wash, "I'm only ringing it up," you beckon him to the cash register.

“Alice in Wonderland?” his voice comes from behind as you walk over. You can smell his cologne from where you are. Pine and sea salt.

“What do you mean?” you throw a glance back to him.

He points to a poster on the wall to your right, the only one not completely covered by bookshelves.

“We’re all mad here,” it says next to a drawing of a grinning cat.

You hum in response, as you walk behind the register, “The quote is from the Cheshire Cat to be fair.”

“Yes, but the cat is from Alice in Wonderland,” he answers fingers drumming on the wood of the counter.

You smile, he didn’t know any better, “The book is actually called Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.”

His raises his eyebrows in surprise, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” you reply trying to stay straight faced but failing miserably. You scan the book’s tag, push the card reader a little closer to him.

He takes out a blue card, swiping it swiftly against the reader. He observes you as the computer dings and the receipt prints. You wrap the book with graceful practice and brown paper.

He smiles one more time, as you hand him the book and the receipt in a white bag, “Thank you for shopping with us,” it reads in golden writing.

“You’ve got a quaint, little bookshop here you know. It’s quite nice really, but it was much more exciting to meet you…”

His voice trails off, he want your name you realize.

Is he flirting?

Your heart races again, as you say it. Your name rolls off his tongue smoothly. If you didn’t know better you might have fallen in love with him from the way he said your name, if you didn’t know better.

“It was a pleasure to meet you as well….” your voice trails off, imitating him earlier.

He looks you up and down, once and then twice, you can feel your face heat up, “Rohan.”

Rohan.

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Rohan," you say murmur, thrown off by him. By his entire being.

He winks before turning around to leave, “See you later, love.”

Love? See you later?

Rohan left you with the rest of the customers and the quiet store save for the occasional shuffle of feet and pages to contemplate his goodbye.

pictures from pinterest, dividers by me.

a/n: was superrr tired when i wrote this so- if there are any mistakes i'm sry!!

main masterlist. more of rohan.

#reshawrites‧🖋ᝰ.‧⁺˖#the inheritance games #the grandest game #the brothers hawthorne #tig #tig fanfic #tig rohan #rohan tgg #fanfic #masterlist

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anythinggoesbutme · 2 days ago

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A Hand in the Dark

Grayson Hawthorne x Lyra Kane

Warnings: Panic attack, emotional vulnerability, anxiety, dissociation, references to pressure/stress, comfort, slow-burn tenderness, soft physical contact (hand-holding, forehead touches), canon-compliant with The Grandest Game timeline

Synopsis: The Grandest Game is pressure on all sides—but when Grayson spirals and no one notices, Lyra finds him in time to remind him he doesn’t have to carry the weight alone.

Word Count: 1,350

The air in Hawthorne House was never quiet. Even in its silences, it echoed with the ghosts of deals and promises and secrets sealed behind mahogany doors.

Grayson sat alone in one of the library’s side rooms—where the old windows rattled, and the moonlight fell in slanted angles across the carpet. A fire burned low in the corner, more for illusion than warmth, casting long shadows against the spines of books he wasn’t reading.

He could hear them downstairs—contestants, family, press. He had smiled at them all. Spoken to them all. Shaken hands. Kept his head up. Played the part.

But it was a part.

And it was breaking.

He didn’t know when the tightness in his chest had started—maybe hours ago. Maybe days. Maybe it had never gone away.

But now, alone, the illusion began to slip.

His tie was too tight. The walls were too close. The air was too thin. He tried to breathe, but it felt like his lungs were shrinking in on themselves, like every inhale caught halfway up his throat and dissolved into a thousand static thoughts.

She’s watching you.

They’re all watching you.

You have to be perfect. You always have to be perfect.

Grayson dropped his head into his hands, fingers digging into his scalp like they could anchor him to something solid. But even that hurt. The pressure. The everything. His heart was beating too fast now—pounding, loud, erratic. His suit felt like a cage. His skin itched. The edges of the room were blurring.

He stood, staggering back from the armchair, colliding with a table. A photo frame fell—his grandfather, cool and composed. He flinched as the glass cracked, slicing through the memory.

His breath came faster. Ragged. Shallow. His hands trembled, one pressed over his chest, the other gripping the edge of the mantel.

No one knew. No one ever knew.

He always made sure of it.

Grayson staggered toward the wall, bracing his palm against the cold wood paneling as his vision spun and dimmed. He squeezed his eyes shut. Fought it. Fought the pressure rising in his throat, the burn behind his eyes. He had to stop this. Had to stop this. He couldn’t be weak. Not now. Not ever.

But he was slipping.

He sank to his knees, unable to stand. The library spun. The shadows stretched. His lungs refused to obey.

I can’t—

I can’t breathe.

He didn’t hear the door creak open.

He didn’t hear the soft footsteps cross the room.

He didn’t hear her speak—not at first.

“Grayson?”

Lyra’s voice cracked through the fog in his head like the first breath after drowning. Her silhouette was backlit by the hall light, soft and golden and human.

She said his name again—softer this time.

“Grayson, hey…”

He couldn’t answer. Couldn’t even lift his head.

But he felt it—her kneeling in front of him, her hand hovering near his arm but not touching. Respecting the space. Waiting for permission.

“Okay,” she said gently, trying not to spook him. “You’re okay. You’re not alone. I’m here.”

He wanted to tell her to go. That she shouldn’t see him like this. That no one should.

But he was too far gone.

And Lyra… she stayed anyway.

“You’re having a panic attack,” she said quietly. “I know it feels like you’re dying, but you’re not. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Her voice was steady. Kind. Like a lighthouse through the storm.

“I’m going to put my hand near yours, alright? Just near.”

Her fingers rested close to his, not touching yet—but he could feel the warmth of her skin.

“If you want me to hold it, just move your pinky toward mine. That’s all.”

A minute passed.

Two.

Then, barely—just barely—Grayson shifted his hand.

Her fingers curled around his.

“Good,” she whispered, like it meant everything. “You’re doing so good.”

The room was still spinning, but slower now.

Her voice guided him through it. Her presence pulled him back. She helped him match his breath to hers, counting low and quiet, like a song only they could hear.

He didn’t know how long it took before he could breathe again. Really breathe. Before the fog began to lift, and the fire felt warm again instead of sharp.

And when he finally opened his eyes, Lyra was still there. Kneeling in front of him. Her hand in his. Her gaze steady.

“Why are you here?” he rasped, voice hoarse.

Lyra tilted her head, a hint of a smile ghosting across her lips. “Because you looked like someone who needed to be found.”

And in that moment, he didn’t feel like a Hawthorne.

He just felt human.

And seen.

And so, so tired.

She didn’t move—not even when the worst of it passed.

Her hand stayed in his. Her presence didn’t shrink back once he opened his eyes. She just… remained. Like she always knew what to do with silence.

Grayson was slouched against the wall now, legs bent and arms heavy, his breathing ragged but finally even. The pressure behind his ribs had lessened, but he still felt like he’d been wrung out and dropped. His fingers ached from gripping the wood. His chest still fluttered like his body hadn’t quite realized it wasn’t dying anymore.

And Lyra—

She knelt quietly beside him, their hands still linked between them. Her thumb ran slow, rhythmic lines over his knuckles, grounding him without a word.

“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” he murmured, throat raw.

She shook her head. “I know.”

Grayson turned his face away, looking anywhere but her. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not here. Not now. Not—” His voice cracked. “Not to me.”

“You’re not immune to being human, Grayson.”

Her words should’ve sounded patronizing. But they didn’t. They were just… true. Gentle and real and laced with the kind of sincerity that stripped his defenses bare.

He closed his eyes. “They can’t see this. The others. My family. Anyone.”

“They won’t,” Lyra promised. “It’s just me.”

And it was.

Just her. In this room that still smelled faintly of old paper and expensive polish, where the fire was dying low and the wind whispered against the panes. Just Lyra. Sitting on the floor beside the golden boy of the Hawthorne name, like he wasn’t something untouchable. Like she never believed he was.

Grayson felt her shift closer. “Can I…?”

She didn’t finish the question. Just left it hanging in the air between them.

But he nodded.

She sat beside him fully now, shoulder to shoulder, their sides brushing. Her free hand tugged his jacket open, loosening it with care, and then undid the top two buttons of his shirt.

A breath escaped him at the sudden space—at the kindness of it. No one ever did that. No one ever took care of him like this.

Like he wasn’t just a symbol, or a soldier in someone else’s game.

Like he was someone worth protecting.

“I didn’t mean for it to get this bad,” he whispered, the truth dragging itself out of his chest like splinters.

Lyra leaned her head gently against his shoulder. “You’re carrying too much alone.”

“I have to.”

“No,” she said, soft but firm. “You don’t.”

He swallowed. The air between them hummed with something fragile and intimate.

“I haven’t…” He paused, brow furrowing. “I haven’t let anyone in like this before.”

“I know.” Lyra lifted her head just enough to look at him. “And I won’t use it against you. You don’t have to explain anything. Not tonight.”

The quiet was comforting now—not cold, not crushing. Just still. Just safe.

His hand was still in hers. And maybe he should’ve let go. Maybe he would tomorrow.

But not now.

Not tonight.

“You could’ve walked away,” he said, eyes fixed on the empty fireplace. “Most people would’ve.”

“I’m not most people.”

He turned to her, eyes searching.

“No,” he said softly. “You’re not.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the pressure in his chest wasn’t panic. It wasn’t fear.

It was relief.

It was gratitude.

It was her.

#grayson hawthorne #lyra kane #the grandest game #the brothers hawthorne #the inheritance games #jennifer lynn barnes #bookworm #fanfic #tumblr fyp #fyp #fypツ

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lyrakanefanatic · 1 month ago

Text

LMAOOOOO i was working on a fic last night at like 12:30 AM and….

in my defense, i was very tired 😓😓

#IM WEAK IDEK WHAT IM TRYING TO SAY #the grandest game #the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #lyra catalina kane #lyra kane #lyrason #the brothers hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #libby grambs #phone girl #maxine liu #fanfic

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inmyheaddd · 5 months ago

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coffee sweetener — grayson hawthorne x reader

a/n: the way i have like 6 other fics i'm working on, this was so cute though I had to write it asap!! thank u sm for the req! wc: 1.8k summary: one of your regulars at your café, grayson— who happens to be insanely handsome, comes in today like usual. but strangely enough, things go a tad further than the surface level small talk you usually have.

a familiar suit clad blonde walked in the near empty cafe you worked in. there was a soft hum of some chatter, but not much, as the early morning sun filtered through the large windows.

some people glanced up from their tables for a second, and some people glanced up at him for a lot more than a small second. could you blame them? no, not really.

his eyes immediately found yours as he walked up to the cash register which you stood behind, and you found yourself averting your gaze involuntarily. 7:14 AM the time read. there was only one thing that made the early morning shift worth it, and it seemed to be standing right infront of you now.

today his suit was gray, you noticed. it made his eyes stand out so much more, you nearly stumbled over your words. “you again,” you said, narrowing your eyes jokingly and biting back a smile.

he smiled the tiniest smile, shrugging as if to say ‘what can i say’ before pretending to look up at the menu to order.

“what would you recommend today?” he spoke smoothly, a stark contrast to some of the other people that would come in and simply shout at you.

“why does that matter?” you teased, tilting your head to the side before you looked down at the cash register for a moment and realised you’d already started putting in his usual order. “you get the same thing every time.”

“'there seem to be no specials, but I'm in the mood for a change.'' he said, his grey eyes doing a once over on you. god, how you wish you weren’t wearing that horrible work apron right now. ''I can be a man full of surprises.”

you let out a small chuckle, “i find that hard to believe.”

everything about him screamed precise and orderly. that was partly what intrigued you so much when you first met him. the fact that he was incredibly gorgeous wasn’t so bad either.

you expected him to get a black coffee, maybe a croissant if he was feeling extra adventurous that day, but no a large americano and a muffin. he would also get a blueberry scone or two some days, but always get it to go, and never eat it himself.

you almost wondered if he was ordering for someone else, maybe a girlfriend. but again, no. he sat alone with just his work laptop, having his americano and muffin.

“is that so?” he countered, a slight raise of one of his brows and an amused smile playing on his lips.

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t smiling yourself. “very much so.”

you were thankful there weren’t any customers in line behind him that would yell at you for taking too long. but even if there was a rude customer, you doubted they yell.

grayson had one of those sort of intimidating presences that made you think he was born to be a ceo or something. now that he’d been a regular for a couple months, that intimidation mostly wore off on you. you just thought he was a pretty cute guy with an obsession for suits.

“i suppose i’ll have to prove you wrong then,” he said that in a way that made you think he proves people wrong very often. he adjusted one of his suits lapels, inadvertently drawing your eyes to his arms. “so i ask again, what do you recommend?”

tearing your eyes away from his arms and back to his face, you asked, “you’re really going with this? okay, fine.” you raised your eyebrows like he had challenged you, but you still couldn’t wipe that stupid smile off your face.

you rested your hands on the counter, “uhm,” you thought, humming slightly, “well, i usually get a refresher— like the strawberry or dragon fruit ones, or i get a hot chocolate.” you said, then a thought sparked in your mind. “oh! and a chocolate chip cookie. and a cake pop.”

you bit back a grin— you did not get cake pops or chocolate chip cookies regularly, but the image of grayson with a cake pop or cookie made you want to laugh for some reason.

“alright then,” he said, ''may i get a medium strawberry refresher, and a,'' he paused, saying the words like they almost pained him, ''two... two chocolate chip cookies, please.''

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

grayson left with his drink and cookie, sitting down at a table a bit further in the back, but he was still conveniently in your eyeline. he opened his briefcase, which you hadn't even realised he was holding. it seemed so natural for him to hold, you hadn't looked twice. you caught yourself looking at him frequently, and sometimes he would glance up from his laptop and lock eyes with you for a moment.

he came up to the counter a few minutes later, his drink finished and thrown away, and a cookie and a half left, adjusting his suit jacket with one hand, briefcase in the other. you fake sighed in annoyance as if his very presence was pestering you-- quite the contrary, really.

he only smiled in response.

''well?'' you said, wiping imaginary dust off of your apron, ''how was it? you sticking to the muffins?''

''I have to say, the refresher wasn't horrible. it was quite nice, actually.'' he said, and you gave him a teasing look that was like, 'told you so!' before he continued. ''however, the cookies were far too sweet. i’m sorry, you seem to have terrible culinary taste.''

you fake scoffed, painting the picture of being truly offended. ''okay, can i tell you a secret?'' you leaned forward, and he entertained you by doing the same, motioning for you to continue. ''yes, you're right. these cookies are absolutely horrible, i agree. but i make much better ones.''

amusement flashed across his eyes, like he guessed you had picked out the not-so-good snacks for him on purpose. “really?” he prompted, a dimple flashing in one of his cheeks as he smiled.

“yes,” you swore seriously with a smile that contrasted that no-nonsense tone, “really.”

“i’d like to be the judge of that.” he said, his voice low and teasing and- god, you could listen to it forever.

“trust me, i’m not lying. i’ll bring some to work tomorrow, just remind me to actually bake them. i have such bad memory.”

“and how exactly would i be able to remind you?” he tilted his head to one side slightly, a teasing glint in his eye like he could see where you were getting at, and was entertaining it.

your heart was beating crazy fast, but it was time to finally make a move on this guy. the cash register flirting was simply not enough anymore. you hoped he felt whatever chemistry you were feeling too-- and that you weren't misreading things. then again, you almost failed the subject, so it wouldn't be surprising if you were still getting it wrong.

“why don’t i give you my number," you started, feeling your hands get clammy, ''and you could text me after my shift?”

his dimples flashed a second time, his eyes doing another once over on you. okay, surely you couldn't misread that one.

you felt your cheeks get hot as he spoke once again, his voice so smooth and low that it fit perfectly with the serenity of the morning and café. “i think i’d like that very much, and that i'll be looking forward to tomorrow.”

biting back a smile and ignoring the way your stomach erupted with seemingly a million butterflies , you somehow managed to say, “alright, then. i think i'd like it too.''

you wrote down your number on his receipt, ignoring the way your hands trembled with excitement and nervousness, drawing a little smiley face next to it.

holy shit, you were never like this. your heart raced as you watched his eyes find the bottom of the receipt and give you a tiny smile. you watched him sit down an his work laptop, then pull out his phone, type something in, and put it back in his suit's pocket.

ugh, you would break every rule and look at your phone right now, except you were on your last strike for using your phone in the middle of shifts, and you did not want to get fired from this little coffee shop for the sole reason of seeing that one blonde man every morning and having your usual banter.

''wait,'' you called out, ''what are you going to do with the rest of the cookies? you said, ''don't tell me you'll throw those absolute delicacies away.'' you added jokingly, and grayson simply shook his head, looking down with a slight laugh with a single blonde strand of hair falling into his face.

''I'm keeping them for my younger brother,'' he replied, a fondness in his voice, ''he's quite something, with his extreme love for baked goods.''

you hummed in thought, suddenly realising this was the first time you'd heard about him having brothers. this was really the first conversation about anything that didn't involve small talk and café related things, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to continue learning more about him. getting to know eachother.

''I think those atrocious cookies will change that love he has,'' you mumbled under your breath without thinking as you shook your head.

you heard grayson chuckle, ''what was that?'' he teased.

''god, i'm gonna get myself fired. forget i said anything.'' you groaned as you covered your face with your hands, already feeling your cheeks heat up again.

''that would prove very difficult,'' he replied smoothly as you put your hands back down. ''I find it near impossible to forget anything you say to me.''

if you thought your cheeks were heated a few seconds ago, they were blazing now. you averted your gaze for a quick second, but his gaze didn't leave yours.

chuckling slightly, you managed to speak without stumbling. "should i start worrying about all my bad jokes being permanently filed away?"

"bad jokes?" he quipped, "i've yet to hear one from you.'' he did not let up on his charm for a single moment, a laugh escaping your lips before he resumed. ''but if you insist, i’ll let you know when you make your first."

'''I'll see you tomorrow, then?''

you nodded, muttering a small 'bye' as you watched grayson step out of the café, the sound of the door chiming behind him.

the anticipation was unbearable, and despite knowing you were on thin ice with your manager, your hand inched toward your phone on the counter.

a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed no one was watching. you unlocked your phone, heart racing as you checked your notifications.

there it was—a new text, well, one from about 10 minutes ago.

Unknown Number:

Already counting down to tomorrow. 🙃 Don’t forget those cookies you talk of, I'm holding you to it.

you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you quickly saved the number, your hands trembling slightly. you almost let out a snort as his emoji choice before typing, glancing again to make sure the coast was clear.

you

i definitely won’t be forgetting now that you've texted I just may be looking forward to tomorrow too 🫣

you were thankful the place was practically empty, because surely you looked like a crazy person, smiling to yourself. you set the phone back down, trying to suppress the giddy warmth spreading through you. the day suddenly didn’t feel quite so long anymore.

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm @goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington @peppapigsposts @thoughtdaughter3

#grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #the inheritance games #the grandest game #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #tig #tgg #grayson hawthorne fanfic #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne fluff #❦ jude writes

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leovaldiva · 1 month ago

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Still No Roommate?

L. K. + G. H.

Warnings: pretty suggestive, no actual smut or even kissing but like references to past sexual experiences and such. fluff in a spicy way

Length: like 300-400 words idk i wrote this in my notes app

Description: Lyra and Grayson live together secretly, but Jameson shows up and figures it out

AN: hi so i’m sorry if this sucks feel free to give me constructive criticism!! but only constructive i’m just trying my best please be nice to me :)) Anyways in this I have Lyra winning the grandest game but i only mention it once so you can just ignore it if you don’t want her to win!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A knock reverberates on the door of Lyra and Grayson’s penthouse in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Grayson had hastily purchased the apartment about 20 minutes after he moved into his first dorm. Turns out, having an entire wing of a mega mansion to yourself is a lot more comfortable than sharing a dorm room with two random men, even if they’re Harvard students.

Grayson and Lyra had been living together for a while, Grayson had asked Lyra to move in with him right after she won the grandest game, and they’ve lived together in secret ever since.

Lyra is upstairs in their bedroom so she doesn’t hear the knock, but Grayson does. He opens the door see Jameson standing there.

“How’d you get my address?” Grayson demands.

“Why didn’t you tell me your address?” Jameson smirks, “got yourself a little roommate?”

He gestures at the louboutin heels Grayson had gifted Lyra for their anniversary, hastily thrown in the foyer. Grayson cursed himself for not choosing an apartment with a coat closet.

“No, I live alone.” Grayson lies. Lyra accidentally contradicts the lie from upstairs as she decides this is the optimal time to discuss laundry.

“Asshole! Do you remember which direction you threw my red underwear?” She calls from their upstairs bedroom.

Grayson sighs, excepting his fate.

“Which red pair sweetheart? You have like six!” he shouts back to her.

“The shimmery lace ones that move to the side easy! and I only have 3 pairs!”

“Oh yes, those! I like those darling!”

Jameson’s eyes widen in horror, Grayson can’t possibly have a sex life??

“Me too, they’re comfy! Which is why I need to find them!”

“I think they went behind us, maybe on the bookshelf? Check between Jane Austen and Wilbert Awdry!” Grayson yells.

“Found them!”

Lyra pauses before yelling again, slightly disgusted, “Oh my God, these need to be washed!!”

“Put them in the hamper with my burgundy suit! I’m taking it to the dry cleaners tomorrow, darling!”

“Thanks babe!”

Jameson leans forward, grinning at Grayson “Still no roommate, loverboy?”

“Shut up.”

“Nice hickey, bAbE” Jameson sing-songs, poking at the very prominent love bite on Grayson’s neck.

“I hope you die.” Grayson deadpans

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AN: hiii! i hope you liked it!

sorry it’s really short :(

Wilbert Awdry is one of the authors of the book that inspired thomas the train engine, a renowned children’s book about a living train. I just thought that was a silly little detail that no one would know unless I mentioned it or they were just that into trains! Obviously Lyra and Grayson would most likely not own those books :)

I don’t know if any apartments have second floors? but I feel like Lyra and Grayson wouldn’t live in a house yet, so this apartment complex does. Sorry if that’s unrealistic, I’ve never lived in an apartment.

Lyra goes to Harvard too, right? it’s been a while since I read tgg, so I don’t remember for sure, but I think she does!

I hope the underwear thingy isn’t weird, when I thought of the plot for this I wasn’t thinking about them having sex, I was thinking about Jameson teasing Gray in a silly little way.

anyway I hope you liked it! I have some more ideas so let me know if yall want a part two…

shout out to @haniya1234 for inspo with the shoe as a gift thing!

tags: @alwaysthefangirl @lyragrayson4ever

#lyragray #lyra x grayson #lyrason fix #lyrason #lyra catalina kane #grayson x lyra #lyra kane #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #fanfic #the inheritance games

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lyrakanefanaticwriting · 4 months ago

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@ratadediamante tagged me in this, soo…..

Head canons of our favourite ship’s morning routine: married edition✨

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• lyra’s and grayson’s jobs start at different times, with graysons starting earlier and lyras starting later, but grayson always makes sure to kiss her every morning before he leaves, and even make her breakfast if he has the time. sometimes, he’ll even take photos of her if she looks especially cute while sleeping :))

• but some days, lyra insists at waking up at the same time as grayson. the first time, she figured that it will be a cute, bonding time between her and her husband. she was wrong.

• grayson woke lyra up at 5:00 in the morning, and she grumbled while getting dressed, grumbled while brushing her teeth, and grumbled while doing her makeup. grayson secretly recorded the parts where she was turned away from him, and it was hilarious how mad she looked. eventually, grayson decided that he would wake up at 6 instead of 5, and now the couple wakes up together most days.

• these more present days, lyra is first to wake up, as her husband is a more deep sleeper, and wakes him up with kisses all over his face. grayson never told anyone this and never will, but some days he wakes up before the alarm he sets, yet he pretends to be asleep so that he can be “woken up” by lyras kisses. 🤭🤭

• despite lyras enthusiastic way of waking grayson up, she always insists on the two of them staying in bed for longer, to which grayson spends the next 5 minutes convincing her to get up. some days, if she gets too tired, he quite literally has to carry her out of bed. sometimes lyra feels too lazy to walk, so she argues with him on purpose, just so he can carry her into their walk in closet and she can get dressed. 😭☠️

• not every day, but some days, grayson will go for a quick morning swim, and lyra likes to tag along sometimes. she usually just ends up dipping her feet in the pool while sitting in silence, (bc she believes its therapeutic 😭😭) but other times she’ll read a book, or just tell her husband to swim closer so that she can chat with him.

• when they’re FINALLY in their walk in closet getting ready for the day, (bc i know they have one for their mass amounts of clothing) they always require opinions from each other on what to wear. lyra always has doubts on which top matches her skirt/pants the best, and grayson loves having her opinion on which suit style/colour would be the best for that day. sometimes lyra talks him out of wearing his suit jacket if it’s hot that day, and once she even convinced him to wear a nice t shirt and pants to the office for work. let’s just say, history was made that day.

• grayson never has too much time to get ready in the morning because his job starts earlier, but lyra always makes sure to play music while they brush their teeth/do their morning routines in the bathroom. she’s been doing it ever since they moved out, and every day they play different playlists. one playlist is adhered more to lyras taste, and the other is more of graysons kind of music.

• for MONTHS after they got married, lyra would spend most of her time getting ready in the bathroom just staring at her ring, and grayson has caught her doing it so many times. he finds it so cute and is so glad that she liked her ring (and her marriage 😏) so much. once her facial cream kept getting stuck in the cracks of her ring, so she took it off just to rub it on her skin. but the mournful look she was giving her ring on the counter made grayson believe for a moment that an eagle would swoop in from the bathroom window and snatch it away right before her eyes. he teased her about it, and she didn’t even care. her ring was pure treasure to her, and everyone knew it.

• once they’re out of the bathroom and lyra is all done with her makeup, the two are headed straight to the kitchen. normally grayson would head out with a coffee and not a second thought about getting a good meal, but after marriage, things change. and he had gotten so many talks from lyra and her mother about how breakfast was the most important meal of the day, that’s he’s finally given in and makes it a priority every morning. lyra herself didn’t even prioritize it, but after finally deciding that she was done with her extra grogginess in the morning, she made it a habit to always make grayson and her eat breakfast together. neither of them are skilled cooks, but lyra is amazing at making breakfast foods that her mom/stepdad used to make for her all the time, and grayson loves them + how happy she is while cooking them.

• other times though, they’ll be too lazy to cook breakfast, or just want something nicer, and just drive out to a diner instead. they have one near their house + both their workplaces that they really like, so they go there every time. they both find the place so peaceful and beautiful, and sometimes, if they’re both too tired or upset or however they may feel in the morning to talk, they sit on the same side of the booth and lyra lays her head on graysons shoulder. they know that they love each other so much, and sometimes, they just want to love each other in silence.

• after breakfast, grayson drives her to her place of work, and they make conversation along the way. gossip they heard from people they know, their dreams of the future, or even something that hasn’t been able to leave their mind. lyra usually is the one talking graysons ear off on the way to work, as after all her grumbling and groaning in the morning she suddenly feels productive on the car ride there, and grayson just listens with a smile. there’s nothing that he wouldn’t listen to as long as it came out of his wife’s mouth.

• when grayson drops her off, he gives her a lunch that he packed her in the morning, or that she packed for herself the night before. but, on days where lyra forgot to pack her lunch and grayson “forgot” to pack his too, he promises to pick her up for lunch to take her out. he then, for those days that he gets to see her for lunch, leaves with a smile, knowing that he has one more good thing to look forward to in his day.

EXTRA: married lyragrayson morning routine after a (very rare) bad fight :(( (this one is more of a rare situation as they don’t really ever get into bad fights, so that’s why the writing looks more like a fic than headcanons (bc i didn’t wanna say “usually” they do this or “typically” they do that as it’s uncommon for them to be fighting in the first place LOL))

• lyra wakes up on her bed, feeling cold and dull and wondering why, before turning around and realizing he wasn’t behind her. lyra is confused, but only for a moment, before her fatigue-riddled mind finally remembers that she sent him off to sleep on the couch last night. a numb feeling overtook her, and she got the sick sensation in her throat that she was going to start crying. except lyra wasn’t going to start crying, because she’d spent all last night sobbing into her pillow anyway.

• getting up, she kicked her feet off the side of her bed, her tired brain trying to process what to do next. where was grayson? what does a wife do after her first big fight with her husband? maybe people were right about the honeymoon phase, and all that was good before was gone. she looked at the ring in her hand, and after minutes of numb eyes staring, took it off. it was only for a moment, but the look of her empty ring finger and it sitting discarded on her bedside table made her feel guilty enough to put it back on.

• finally getting up, lyra decides that what’s done is done and she has to get started with her day. surprising to no one, she has a pounding head ache from all the crying she had been doing the night before. lyra walks into her closet and puts on a pair of clothes, the pair that had been rotting in the back of her closet because they’re as dull as lyra feels. perfect.

• walking over to her bathroom, lyra slides open the sliding door, and sees him. the suit he was wearing enunciated his muscles, and lyra hated that she couldn’t tear his eyes away from his broad shoulders and biceps. once she snaps out of it, she immediately backs away when she sees grayson getting ready, but he turns around, calling her name. still, she’s walking away when she feels two hands wrap around her waist and spin her around. grayson is again face to face with her.

• he immediately apologizes for his actions, having more patience and less pettiness than lyra, and explains them. but lyra still has a bad taste in her mouth from the fight. she refuses to meet his gaze, scoffing at his words. unfortunately, she forgot that grayson could also be rather stubborn. every time she cast her gaze else where, he would always gently take hold of the top of her neck with his fingers on her jaw and move her head to look at him again. of course, lyra did feel bad, but a part of her knew that the fight mainly wasn’t her fault. it was one of graysons problems that started it.

• once he’s done his apology speech, lyra just walks past him and into the bathroom, eager to just get ready and get this over with. unfortunately, grayson wasn’t going to stop trying that quickly. he followed her everywhere: the bathroom, the vanity, the kitchen, always at least a foot behind her as she walked. and lyra was done. she whipped her head around and demanded him to explain to her the point of the fight last night. grayson replied gently, but she could see that she was testing his patience. lyra mulled on his answer before stomping off to the kitchen, and opening her fridge door. pulling enough food for two out, she started cooking. after making 4 french toasts with sausages on the side, she puts it on two plates and puts them both on the island by the two chairs they had there. grayson, however, was making coffee, and when he placed lyras cup by her plate, she tasted it and immediately scowled. it was annoyingly just how she liked it.

• grayson and her ate in silence, but after graysons stares were becoming excruciating, she turned to him with a stone cold look on his face.

• “what?” she asked, bluntly.

• “did you not sleep well last night?” he asked her.

• she scoffed. “no, i was too busy crying to get any sleeping done.”

• she hates that she knew her husband so well in this moment, because when she said it, she knew exactly how he would react. which, for all of lyras fake bluntness, was what she wanted. with his eyes softening at lyras reply, grayson immediately stood up, picking lyra up from her chair and pulling her into an embrace. she couldn’t act harshly to her husband anymore. not after he set her feet back down on the ground and stroked her hair, murmuring apologies and “i love you”’s. he covered the crown of her head with soft kisses, and when lyra turned her head up to look at him with gentle eyes, he covered her face in kisses too, getting a laugh out of lyra as she whacked his arm in protest.

• the rest of the day goes smoothly, as when arguments do happen between the couple, they end before the two can leave the house. grayson puts hers and his coffee in a two go cup when they see the time, and leave the house holding hands. grayson drives, and although it takes them a minute, conversation is already starting up again. grayson leaves one of his hands out, and lyra, absentmindedly, starts tracing the lines of his hand while talking. grayson smiles at the fact that she didn’t even really notice she was doing it.

• once he drops lyra off in front of her workplace, he gets out of the car to open the door for lyra. after lyra gets out of the car, grayson immediately traps her in a passionate kiss, only stopping once lyra murmurs against his lips that she’s going to be late. he separates from her lips and strokes her dark hair as he did earlier, whispering to her how beautiful she is and how lucky he is to have a wife as special as her. lyra blushes, and begins to whisper a multitude of apologies about the fight back to him, but he just kisses her to stop her. he knows that she actually is going to be late if he keeps holding on to her, so he lets go of her waist and gives her a quick goodbye peck. lyra returns it and walks off, her head ache gone along with each and every single one of her worries.

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ummmm these ended up being so much longer than i thought they would, but OMG i just loved writing lyrason as a married couple so much!!! it just healed something in me calling them husband and wife, and i honestly need them to get married STAT bc i love them both too much 😭💗💗

#I ACTUALLY GIGGLED WRITING THIS 😭😭🤭#lyrason #lyra x grayson #headcanon #grayson hawthorne #lyra and gray #lyra catalina kane #lyra kane #the grandest game #nash hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #fanfic

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